Watcher of Angels
by formerAnnie
Summary: The blood of a hunter flows through her veins, and she has nothing to lose. But there's something about Jennifer Webb that separates her from the rest. Something along the road made her see things - things unseen by even the angels. (Companion to 'Search for an Angel')
1. Guardian Angel

Welcome to my first Supernatural fanfic! This story is intended to be a companion/sequel to my Doctor Who story, _Search for an Angel_ ; however, they should be separate enough that you don't have to be a fan of one to read the other. Updates _should_ be fairly consistent and reviews are greatly appreciated!

Guardian Angel

"Sorry, Mom. Can't stop for breakfast!" the teen called as she hopped down the stairs, her long legs carrying her three steps at a time. Her pixie-cut dark brown hair clung wet to her forehead. "Forgot to shower last night."

"I know. Don't want you starving," the older brunette shot back calmly, taking a moment from the scrambled eggs on the stove to toss a slice of buttered toast to her wiry daughter.

"Good morning to you too!" her father interjected with false insult from cutting peppers on the island counter.

She rolled her eyes, kissed him on the cheek, and stuffed the toast between her teeth before tossing her messenger bag over her shoulders.

"I'll help you clean your guns when I get back from school, Dad."

"I'll hold you to that!" he hollered after her with a chuckle.

A few seconds later, the runner reappeared in the kitchen, holding her half-eaten toast limply.

"Hey. I was wondering – if demons are real…are angels real? Like guardian angels and archangels? If there's one, it only makes sense that there's the other. Just curious."

Both parents looked up in surprise at the sudden question. Her mother seemed troubled at first, but she finally smiled and replied,

"There are always angels watchin' out for us, baby."

A little confused at the mixed signals, the daughter nodded and jogged back outside.

* * *

The sixteen-year-old hummed along to the playlist on her mp3 player as she turned onto the last street on the walk back from her highschool. Most of the other people in her class on a Friday night were off partying together; no one had invited her, but she didn't care. Her family had just moved to this small city in the Midwest a month ago. It was halfway through the term, she didn't have any friends, and she didn't bother trying to make any.

The place they were renting was a pretty typical two-story family house in a family neighborhood with a bunch of families running around. It was cheap and no one knew them; that was the point. At least it was better than the shack they had squatted in for three months before getting here. Maybe it would last and the younger daughter could actually finish high school in one place, but she wouldn't bet anything on it.

Even though her parents didn't hunt anymore, trouble still followed them around. Even after nineteen years of being 'retired' from the life, their hunter instincts just wouldn't let some things go…like the events that led to this most recent move. It wasn't like they had gone _looking_ for a vampire nest; it just sort of happened and they ended up killing three of the monsters before storming into the house, announcing the needed move.

A movement in the upstairs window caught her attention and she suddenly realized that there was blood smeared on the glass. A man with bloody clothes and fangs smiled down at her. Before the horror of it could settle in, a red Honda screeched to a halt at the driveway and the angry driver yelled for her to hurry.

"Where were you, Jenny?!" Kelsey demanded as Jennifer secured her seatbelt and tossed her satchel into the cluttered back seat. Her nineteen-year-old sister sped through their quiet neighborhood toward the highway.

"Kelsey! You're back! I went running after school."

"You could have been dead for all I knew!"

Jen's eyes widened and she turned to look at the shrinking house in the distance, a pit forming in her stomach.

"Kelsey, where are Mom and Dad?"

"We need to get out of town," the other girl deflected, her long chocolate ponytail swinging to the side as she checked for traffic at a stop sign.

"They found us, didn't they?"

"Yeah."

"Kelsey…" Jennifer didn't really want to know the answer, but she _had_ to know. Her sister wouldn't be driving away so frantically and avoiding questions if it weren't the case. "The vamps got them, didn't they?"

"Yeah."

"…okay."

Not sure how to react, Jen stared out the window, watching the passing scenery with tears threatening to fall from her dark eyes. They grew up knowing this was always a possibility; their parents had told them a million times. But it was never supposed to be a _reality_. Now, the vampires would probably be after their victims' kids next, meaning they would be on the girls' trail by the next night.

Jen hadn't been all that enthusiastic about hunting and tended to take life one step at a time, which was necessary for their peculiar hybrid lifestyle. She just assumed anyway that she would end up doing it eventually. Her education came first at the moment, then she would train and help her folks and patiently wait for the next announcement that they were moving. Sure, she had skipped a couple years, but she was supposed to have almost another year to actually make that decision. Finish high school, then either hunt or try to be 'normal'. Well, that decision had been made for her now.

Kelsey, on the other hand, started traveling and hunting right after graduating high school two years previously. Their parents certainly hadn't encouraged it – wanting a normal life for their kids was part of why they left the business – but neither did they hide it. She insisted that it was what she wanted in life, so they decided it would be best to teach her and give her the best chance possible. She would leave, kill a few things, and come back home for a good meal before driving off again. They never knew exactly when she'd turn up. She always talked about dragging Jen off with her one day. This time was different.

* * *

After about five hours of driving, the girls finally stopped at a cheap hotel, got a room for the night, and grabbed their gear from the car.

Jen curiously unzipped her duffle bag, having forgotten what she put in it a year previously. Her folks had insisted that she keep an emergency bag in her sister's trunk, 'just in case'. Clothes, a couple of fake IDs, a couple of credits cards, cash, and weapons. Lots of weapons.

"Hehe! I forgot I had this!" she exclaimed, mashing a tasseled beanie on her head in an attempt to lighten the mood. Kelsey barely reacted, instead digging through her own bag for a clean t-shirt.

Jennifer eventually dropped the smile and changed into boxer shorts and a black camisole before tumbling under the sheets. Kelsey stood frozen mutely at the foot of her own bed.

Finally, she decided to talk, and Jen promptly sat up with her legs crossed.

"I was tracking them, trying to see if we still needed to worry. Didn't realize that I wasn't the only one doing the tracking. They must've followed me back. By the time I got home, they already found Mom and Dad, and when I couldn't find you, I…" Jen simply closed her eyes and nodded. The older girl simply became more aggravated. "It's my fault. I'm sorry. I did this to us." Jen said nothing, but a few tears started escaping onto Kelsey's cheeks. "Jenny, come on. Say something! _Anything_! I shouldn't have gone off so eagerly to start killing stuff and hopping into the life they worked so hard to leave. I should have been more careful. I should have known better. I ruined everything. I know!"

Jen remained silent, slowly processing what was happening with dry eyes. Their lives would never be the same. They were running for their lives. But they weren't defenseless. Their parents were dead and the monsters that did it were after them. Monsters that could be killed, just as their parents had taught them. Maybe Jennifer didn't have as much hands-on experience as her sibling, but she was a fast learner and she certainly had motivation.

"We can't bring Mom and Dad back," she finally said, taking time to collect herself. Kelsey seemed put off by the steadiness of her voice. "But we _can_ send those vamps to whatever afterlife is waiting for them. We'll make them pay. You and me. I'll watch your back and you watch mine."

Without another word, Jen switched off the bedside lamp and curled up with her back turned to the other hunter.


	2. Happy Twenty-One

Happy Twenty-One

Kelsey Webb stepped up to the bar with a cheeky grin at the owner of the Roadhouse. She had been careful to scrape off the bottom of her hiking boots, but the rest of her gave clear evidence that she had yet to clean up after her most recent hunt. Her baby-blue eyes flashed brightly through the dust on her face from getting thrown onto her back in the warehouse. Her lanky frame was covered with equally sooty blue jeans, blue camisole, and a light jacket.

The other woman gave her a doubtful onceover and then nodded shortly.

"See you haven't gotten yourself killed yet."

"Been a long time, Ellen. Two beers, if you please."

"Ah! Young lady, what have I told you about me serving minors?"

"No longer! Jenny turned twenty-one yesterday!"

"Well, I'll be! And, Kelsey, here I remember refusing _you_ service like it was yesterday."

"Yeah," the twenty-four-year-old chuckled, leaning against the bar and looking at her sister, who was busy trying to find their next hunt on her laptop next to the window.

Jenny had changed a lot since they sped off from their home after their parents' murder. So had Kelsey, but Jen had changed _way_ more compared to back then. She was still wiry, but she was a lot stronger, had better instincts, and was handy with pretty much any weapon she could get her hands on. The sweet, smiling complexion Kelsey always found so endearing had aged and become clouded with the watchfulness of a born hunter. She still somehow managed to always have a smile ready, and it always brought a sort of childlike joy with it, but her mind didn't work the same. She could turn off her emotions too easily, and it concerned Kelsey to not know where those emotions went.

"You've been huntin' together for – what? – five years now? She seems to have settled into it nicely."

"Considering she didn't choose it," Kelsey muttered, turning again to look at the motherly bartender. "Sure, she'll stop to smell the roses, but pretty much all she does is look for another hunt."

"You two are perfect for this lifestyle; don't get me wrong. You don't have any family connections to be used against you."

Kelsey sensed the impending 'but', so she stepped in.

"She doesn't bother making connections 'cause she knows she'll get hurt. Even when we were kids and not moving around all the time, she was more content alone. At first, I was just impressed by how resilient she was when our parents died; but it's not just her being tough. It's like she has a switch on her emotions that she can just shut off. It's gotten worse since that guy back in Arizona three years ago. He hunted with us for a while and I thought they were having a good thing going. She opened up for a bit, but, the second he turned his back on us, her shell snapped shut even tighter. She didn't embrace the life; she jumped in headfirst."

"Could be a good thing for a hunter. In moderation. But you're not worried about it just for her sake."

"If some monster gets me, I obviously want her to be okay." She grabbed her beers with a grim smirk. "But I'd like to know she'd shed maybe a few tears. I may be the older one, but it honestly seems like she's the one taking the lead now."

A moment later, Kelsey handed one of the beers to her sister, who swiftly turned her laptop around so she could see the search results.

"Got a couple of probable ghost sightings, both in South Dakota."

"That's actually a state?" the older girl joked, clicking on a few of the links.

Jenny leaned back in her seat with an amused laugh and took a swig of her beer.

* * *

April 4, 2003

"House is abandoned, so we don't need to worry about collateral."

Kelsey handed several small bags of salt to her sister and grabbed the shotgun before closing the trunk.

"I can't believe we didn't hear about this one sooner. It's too obvious."

"At least it was an easy drive from our last job."

The women used their flashlights to scope out the house as they picked the lock and started setting up for a ghost fight. The country house had been abandoned a few years ago after the couple kept finding their windows and doors locked, things moving on their own, etc. The body of the ghost – some creeper who had killed all of his girlfriends in the 1930s – had been cremated, but he apparently had a habit of putting some of his hair in the pages of his journal every year. The last owners of the house said they had found the journal in a drawer in the master bedroom. If they destroyed that, the ghost would leave. That was the dream, anyway.

It was likely to be a pretty normal de-ghosting job. If the ghost revealed itself before they headed up the stairs, Kelsey would provide a distraction and Jennifer would go find the journal.

"Yep. Ghost activity," the older one confirmed, pocketing her EMF scanner and setting down the gun to help with the salt circle. "How's it feel to be twenty-one?" she asked to pass the time.

"Not really different."

Jenny suddenly started chuckling for no apparent reason.

"What?"

The younger woman looked up a grin, brushing the salt dust from her fingerless gloves.

"Just remembering how _you_ were the one who woke up with the killer hangover."

"Shut up," Kelsey warned, stopping to point an accusing finger at her sibling. "We agreed to never mention it."

" _You_ agreed to never mention," she teased, smugly straightening her tasseled beanie hat. A split second later, she dropped the smile and snatched up the shotgun. The ghost was right behind the other hunter. "Kelsey, down!"

The other brunette obeyed, just in time for a blast of salt to zap over her head.

"Great. Now, where did it go?"

"You're welcome," grumbled the twenty-one-year-old as she reloaded. "So, we're dealing with a ghost."

"That obvious, huh? Just shut up and go find this guy's journal, Jenny. I'll try to keep this idiot entertained."

"Yup."

Tossing the gun to Kelsey, Jennifer grabbed a bag of salt from their pile in the corner and bolted up the stairs.

"All right, Drew," the remaining girl shouted, trying to get the ghost's attention. "Come at me!"

The apparition appeared off to her left and she quickly blew it away. She waited another minute, ready to fire again.

"Where are you," she muttered under her breath.

There was the sound of breaking glass and she shot blinding, cursing herself the second her finger pulled the trigger. But then the ghost of Drew Carny appeared one last time, screeching his way into oblivion. And he was gone.

But what broke the glass? A sharp, exploding pain at the base of her neck answered that question. Having not had the chance to reload, she hit the thing behind her as hard as possible with the butt of her weapon. Once. Twice. Three times.

More windows were broken as the figure suddenly disappeared and Kelsey was restrained by three others. The gun was wrested from her fingers and her belt knife disappeared.

"Kelsey!" she heard Jennifer call with a shaking voice.

Kelsey wanted to respond, but the blood pouring from her neck and the effort of trying to keep three vampires at bay was quickly exhausting her.

" _Kelsey!_ " the voice cried, more desperate.

Tired of her resistance, one of the vampires landed a blow to the young woman's face and she went down. His fangs were all too prominent in the moonlight filtering into the room.

Another window broke upstairs and there was a _thump_ on the porch roof. Jen.

Kelsey tried to stem the flow of blood, but it just kept coming. The room started flickering in and out of existence. The vamp that bit her reappeared at the bottom of the stairs and one of the others shot outside. She thought she remembered killing off his nest, the same ones that killed her parents. Apparently, she had missed one.

She could just make out Jennifer's silhouette outside in the marshy lawn. The other hunter quickly surveyed her surroundings, noted the useless car and vampires everywhere, and bolted down the drive. She had nothing to stay for – logically, Kelsey should have been dead by now.

"Run, Jenny," the brunette whispered, feeling the blood begin to pool around her knees. "Run."

"Where'd she go?" the lead vamp asked after a moment as the others reached the driveway.

Jenny had disappeared into thin air. Kelsey's last conscious thought was that at least her sister got away.


	3. Missing Hunter: Found

SOOO sorry for the delayed update, but I lost the internet for a few days.

Missing Hunter: Found

Bobby Singer squinted up from the pile of books on his desk and began refilling his glass of whiskey. But something gave him pause – a strange noise outside.

Grabbing his gun just to be safe, the grizzled hunter walked to the door, grumbling the whole way. There was nothing suspicious right outside and it was broad daylight. But then there was something that sounded like metal pounding on metal down one of the rows of old cars strewn about his gravel yard. He cautiously followed the sound echoing through the spring air, gun ready, but then it stopped.

Still on alert, Bobby went to the row where he had heard the noise. What he saw made him stop yet again. A woman in a black hoodie and jeans was sprawled out on her back in the gravel. Her breaths came in painful gasps and she held a knife limply in her hand. She couldn't have been older than twenty-five with long deep red hair and a web-patterned scar around her right eye. She had a bloody nose and her skin was flushed from an apparent fever, despite the cool March air.

Bobby stepped closer, cautiously revealing his presence. She looked human, but he couldn't be too sure.

"I'm guessin' you could use a little help," he drawled. "You a hunter?"

With a relieved nod, the woman closed her eyes and apparently lost consciousness. The old man rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath.

* * *

 _A shot rang out downstairs. Kelsey was doing her job of the distracting the ghost; she was good at that. Jennifer dropped the journal into a metal trash bin, lit a match from her jean pocket, and torched the book. There was another shot from downstairs, followed by an ungodly scream._

 _Jen brushed the salt from her fingerless gloves and smugly straightened her tasseled beanie hat. After watching to make sure the journal had burned completely, she turned to head back downstairs – Kelsey was probably already packing up their gear in the car._

 _A dark figure in the doorway suddenly stepped into light, halting her movement. Blood coated his shirt collar and dripped down his chin. His fanged teeth were stained red and his gaze was…hungry. Jen froze in place and glanced around for an exit while slowly grasping the hilt of the machete at her hip. How did he get past her sister?_

 _"Been a long time, Jennifer. I thought you might be here after I saw your sister."_

 _Wait. She knew this creature._

 _"Kelsey!" she called, forcing her growing panic to remain subdued._

 _The vampire took a few steps forward, grinning grotesquely._

 _"She can't hear you."_

 _"_ _Kelsey!_ _" the girl screamed louder, but no one was coming. She yanked the machete out to be ready when the vampire attacked. "What did you do to her?"_

 _"Same thing I did to your parents."_

 _Jen somersaulted to the side the first time he lunged, trying to strategize how she would get him into a position to behead him without her partner to help. She whipped around when he came at her a second time and got lucky with a cut across his chest. Unfortunately, it simply angered him. The vampire easily flicked the machete out of her hand. A moment later, she found herself flying through second-story window headfirst._

 _She landed roughly on the slanted porch roof and took a semi-controlled tumble to the marshy lawn. With one look at the broken windows all around the building, Jennifer started thinking of an escape plan. The car's tires had been slashed and the windows shattered. There was a vampire in the car…and another had just appeared inside the house. Time to leave. With just her pistol and two daggers in her boots, the only choice was to run._

 _Jennifer limped for the driveway, hoping that she might find a car to snag on the main road. Halfway down the drive, she found something completely unexpected. But maybe they wouldn't find her there… She took a detour off the road and shot into the blue police box. She wasn't going to question a good thing. She locked the door behind her._

The woman awoke with a gasp to cool water being splashed at her face by the same grizzly man she had seen before losing consciousness. She quickly became aware of her wrists being tied to the arms of her chair in the incredibly cluttered office.

"Congratulations," the man grumbled, putting the cap back on the water bottle – she had a feeling it wasn't just normal water. "My preliminary tests say you're human."

"Yay for me," she replied, becoming dreadfully aware of the metallic taste in her mouth leftover from the bloody nose. "I'm dying, not a demon," she added upon seeing the distrust in his eyes.

"How'd you end up in my yard?"

She laughed, unable to think of anyway to explain.

" _Look, you can go back if you like, whenever you want. But you're welcome to travel with me for a while."_

 _Go back? When she could get away from those monsters and the chaos of the life she knew? Without her sister, she had no reason to be there. The chance to travel like this… It didn't matter if it was a dream; maybe it was. Maybe she was being killed by a monster at this very second._

 _The old stranger called her attention back._

" _I want to show you something you've never dreamed of."_

"It's a little complicated," she tried to say, but the other hunter wouldn't have it.

"Just try me."

 _The memory suddenly vanished, replaced by a warm, suffocating blueish whiteness. Every time she breathed, it felt like she was being smothered with a pillow in a sauna. She struggled, but she was also painfully aware that it was impossible to physically control her own body. She could only lie there on the couch, being consumed by that calming white voice._

 _Memories, thoughts, and feelings that weren't her own started pressing in on Jen's consciousness._

 _"_ _Must find shelter. Can't reach home. All is lost. Must find a host."_ _I am Jennifer W… Jennifer… Jen…_ _"He may be adequate. Not vulnerable. Must weaken. Inspire. Poison."_ _I'm a fighter. I don't give up…_ _"Inspiration. Yes. Weakening, trauma. Yes. But another… Must live. I must live!"_

 _"Jennifer!" The glowing entity – Jen – hesitated. Something was trying to pull her away. Or pull something away from her. Which was which?! "Jen?"_

 _There was a high-pitched buzzing sound and the white tendrils that had wrapped around every inch of the human body slowly slid away. She felt split in two…no, she was whole. There was something else she couldn't pinpoint. Her mind tried to comprehend what had just happened. She remembered feeling the power and heightened senses of the entity. The hunter in her had been thrilled by the fight, what the experience had given her…which was now a dizzying headache and overwhelming nausea._

 _"Where is it?" she whispered weakly._

 _"Dissipated," her rescuer replied, looking around as if to make sure the thing wasn't coming back. "Suppose it put too much into the transfer to survive when it was disconnected prematurely. I…" He suddenly bent down, his scraggly eyebrows uncomfortably close. "It_ is _still you…right?"_

"Well?" he insisted.

Finally, the girl gave an answer she hoped would satisfy her momentary captor.

"Had a run-in with a sick critter that almost got the better hand. Some kind of spirit or something that was trying to possess me. It died, but left some of its…essence, I guess, behind. I can actually do some pretty cool stuff, but it also gave me whatever illness was killing it."

"Sorry." He held up the small device she had destroyed with her knife; apparently, she hadn't thrown it far enough. This fellow was thorough, to say the least. She could make him drop the subject if she wanted, but she also didn't want to be on this fellow's bad side. "And what's this?"

"It helped me in my travels. But the tech is… It doesn't belong here. I had to destroy it just to be safe."

"What sort of tech?"

The woman squinted around at the cluttered room.

"The kind you don't want just hanging around."

"Be more specific."

"Okay." She looked him straight in the eyes. "I got it from the future. _Terminator_ enough for ya?"

"I've heard crazier." With a grunt, Bobby cut the ropes that bound Jen's arms to the chair and offered to shake her hand, to her surprise. "Bobby Singer."

"I've heard of you. Jennifer Webb."

"Heard of you too. Heard you disappeared."

"Yeah, I've been…under the radar for a while." She shook her head with a chuckle. "Like I said. _Terminator_ stuff."

"Where were you?"

She sniffed a laugh while Bobby handed her a glass of whiskey.

"I needed a break after my sister died. By pure luck, I ran across a guy who could travel through time as easy as could be. _Veeeeery_ long story. I was able to get out, but I'm back in the game. Heard of any stray cases?"

"Got a specialty?"

She finished off her drink in one gulp, cringing as it went down. Clearly, this Bobby fellow had seen a lot – enough to barely bat an eye when she told him she had been hopping through time. She knew exactly how crazy it sounded.

"A lot of vampires and ghosts, but I'll do just about anything."

"Well, I don't have anything specific, but I know where you might be able to pick up something down south. There's a place…"

"The Roadhouse?"

"Yeah. You been there?"

"Not since…" She paused. "Wait. What month is it?"

"March," Bobby answered with an 'isn't it obvious?' tone. She looked at him expectantly to continue. "…2007?"

Jen went quiet for a moment.

"Do…do you know where I could find a ride?"

* * *

"What can I get ya?" the bartender inquired without looking up from the glass she was cleaning as the newcomer sat down at the bar.

"Whiskey?" Jennifer ordered, catching the woman's instant attention. "How you been, Ellen?"

"How can you come sauntering in here like nothing happened?" Ellen scolded, slamming the glass down on the counter. Jen froze in alarm. "I cared about you girls! Four years ago, I hear Kelsey's dead and no word from you. It's like you fell off the planet. Where you been?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Not good enough."

"Oh boy. I forgot how inquisitive hunters are… I had to get out of the country. Had a few adventures, some nasty run-ins. But I'm back. I'm…I'm really sorry about not trying to contact you…didn't know it meant so much." The cross woman glowered at Jen a moment before nodding in acceptance and pouring the whiskey. "What's the word on the road?"

"Demons. Lots of 'em. If you travel anywhere, you'll probably run into one eventually. They're usually pretty obvious."

"Hm." Jen considered the possible directions she could go as she downed her drink. It felt good to be doing something so…normal after the circus ride she had just jumped. "Guess I should get some supplies and hit the pavement."

"What happened to your face?"

The younger woman squinted her eyes, causing the webbed scarring to crinkle.

 _The brunette tottered through the halls, holding her left arm up to shield her watering eyes and her other hand holding her gun ready. A shot from a plasma rifle from the right had grazed her face before she could jump out of the way, leaving her half-blind from the pain and swelling. She prayed she didn't have permanent damage to her eyes. Hadn't she left this insanity behind?_

"Got myself shot. After I lost Kelsey, I had to get away. I...don't really want to tell that story again. But, I'm back. Good thing too. Sounds like you could use all the hunters you can get."

Ellen grunted doubtfully.

"I've seen some crazy things, but that just about tops it."

"You and me both," Jen smiled, setting her glass down for a refill.


	4. Back on the Job

So sorry for the terrible delay! Post-graduation adulting is obnoxious. I should be able to start focusing on this story again. Thank you for your patience!

Back on the Job

April 12, 2007

The hunter slowly pivoted around, eyeing the pine trees suspiciously as the moonlight filtered through the network of branches. She delicately rolled the silver dagger between her fingers, perfectly conscious of the leathery handle. Finally, she stopped, facing what she knew to be the closest exit from the trees.

There was no need for her to look to know that the hulking demon was standing right behind her, circling in hopes of cutting her off from the clearing. It knew she was trying to draw him out into the open. He, however, didn't know her true reasoning why. It wasn't the open field that was her goal, but what was beyond it.

He ended up cutting off her escape a little faster than anticipated and she heard him already charging at her. The woman expertly threw her knife at the attacking figure, but he dodged it. Just to spite her, the demon launched Jen headfirst into the air towards the clearing. She found herself whipping through the pine needles and somersaulting onto the soft moss that covered the meadow. There would certainly be a few bruises from that...

As the demon stumbled out of the brush, she noticed that he hadn't taken the time yet to fix his dislocated arm. Other than that, he was very much unharmed.

The sound of someone gulping loudly alerted her to the presence of an audience – three people standing beside a rather conspicuous blue box that hadn't been there earlier. The two men looked confused and giddy, while the woman was simply peeved. No time to find out who they were. The demon had finished resetting his arm. To buy herself another moment, Jen snatched the small holy water bottle from her pocket and sprayed it at the demon. She laughed darkly at her audience's shock. While the demon screamed in agony, the hunter grabbed her knife from the ground and bolted toward the shack in the distance. As anticipated, her challenger followed and her audience was left none the wiser.

Jen ran as fast as her legs would carry her, finally managing to reach the door to the cabin; however, she stopped upon realizing that the demon was no longer in sight.

Where did it go? She peered through the darkness of the clearing for a moment, only to get the wind knocked out of her as the fellow sent her crashing into the door, shattering the flimsy old plywood.

Jennifer winced upon realizing that she had landed on a large sliver of wood, which was now jammed into the back of her shoulder. Not part of the plan. She dragged herself backwards into the cabin as the demon reappeared. Just a few more steps…

The demon froze in the doorway, sensing a trap. He looked down at the entry rug and bent down to flick it away, revealing the chalk demon trap. As he scuffed his shoe on the floor, breaking the circle, Jen greatly regretted her choice of writing tool. She made a mental note to stop by a hardware store to stock up on spray paint.

Now what? It wasn't like she had some magic knife to kill this guy, and she didn't have time to do an exorcism without being crushed. At the edge of panic, Jen braced herself and yanked the chunk of wood from her shoulder. She started to scramble away, but the demon grabbed her leg and lugged her backwards. Then nothing.

The woman flipped over and froze at the sight of the blade tip sticking out of the chest of the demon, which collapsed a second later. Dead.

In his place was a tall, severe-looking old woman with her silver hair pulled back in a high bun. With a wave of her hand, the blood on her dagger vanished.

"Please do not get yourself killed," the lady requested blandly, offering to help the hunter stand.

Jennifer winced at the throbbing in her shoulder, but still managed to retrieve her own weapon from where it had clattered to the floor.

"I appreciate the help – peculiar as it was. But who _are_ you?"

"I'm an angel."

The woman put a hand on Jen's shoulder and, in an instant, they were standing in a small chapel with a few parishioners in the kneelers. Jen's shoulder wound was completely healed. The stranger observed her expectantly.

"Um. Angel, eh?" Jennifer looked around helplessly. "Are we here to visit your friends?"

Her companion's eyes lit up.

"What friends?"

Jen stared pointedly toward the tabernacle at the front of the chapel.

"The two people on guard over there? Everyone seems to not notice them, so I figured they're…angels or somethin'."

"What do they look like?"

"Silver armor. Gold hair. Uh…wings. Wait. You _can't_ see them?" The woman…angel…person didn't answer. "If you're really an angel, why are you here?"

The matron stared blankly at the chapel for a moment before walking disappointedly outside onto the small town street.

"Those angels are from a very special class of Cherubim. A bit like God's secret service. They usually remain invisible even to other angels."

"And you can't see them. But I can. How?"

"How can you blindly throw a knife and have it instantly kill your enemy, or convince an officer of the law to not give you a parking fine simply by telling him it's not an issue? Whatever happened when that…spirit attacked you during your travels also lets you see the Cherubim. Makes you special. I suppose."

Jen scratched her head in confusion. Angels? Warrior Cherubim? Knives that could kill demons? Those things weren't supposed to exist. It made sense, but…

"Listen, again, I appreciate the help. But you're not… I guess it should have clicked when I first saw those…Cherubim a few months ago, but I was a bit busy with a goblin. How… I think I need a drink." The old woman touched her shoulder again and zapped them to the front doors of a sketchy bar. Jen leapt defensively away from the angel's grasp. "Would you stop that?!"

The angel cocked her head with a critical scowl.

"Your vehicle is two miles north of here. I must go."

"Where?"

"To give my report. In the meantime, _don't_ get yourself killed."

In the blink of an eye, the prickly old dame had disappeared, leaving Jen more confused than ever. With nothing better to do, she walked into the dim building, sat down at the bar, and ordered her drink. No use letting a good opportunity go to waste.

Angels paying her a visit? Angels that couldn't be seen by other angels? She hadn't even heard of any other hunters ever _seeing_ _any_ angels. This earned a second drink.

She paused upon catching sight of the headline of the paper that had just been discarded on the bar.

"Excuse me," she hesitated, eyeing the owner. "Do you mind if I borrow that?"

"All yours," he grumped, paying for his drink and walking away.

Jen gulped the burning shot of whiskey and unfolded the front page. Angels could wait. She had a job to do.


	5. Too Easily Gone

Too Easily Gone

April 15, 2007 – Wyoming

"Once again, Mr. Tyler, we're very sorry for your loss. But, if you could just tell us about your wife's disappearance, it would really help with our investigation."

The old man nodded slowly to the apparent investigators across the diner table, pushing away his untouched plate. Dean eyed the cold fries longingly and earned a dirty look from his brother.

"My wife – she was goin' off about seeing her dead brother. Said he _talked_ to her. But he's been _dead_ for five years! Ten days ago, she made up a nice bunch of flowers from her garden…she loved that garden. Anyway, she…she went to visit the cemetery outside town where he's buried an'…she never came back home. It was…" He roughly wiped his hand over his face in an attempt to hide his glistening eyes. "Today was our anniversary. Forty years. Met her while I was in the Air Force. Please, ya gotta find somethin'."

Sam nodded sympathetically.

"Our department is doing everything it can to investigate all the disappearances in the area, including your wife."

"I know," Mr. Tyler sighed with a vague smile. "The other gal from the FBI said as much."

The brothers exchanged looks of perplexity before Dean decided to wrap up the conversation.

"Hey, uh, listen. Thanks for all your help, sir. We'll let you know if we find anything about your wife."

The Winchester boys quickly made their escape, bumping into a young woman who was going the other direction on the way out. While Dean was busy eyeballing the winking redhead, Sam leaned against the Impala with a scowl.

"Dean. Do you think the FBI agent Tyler mentioned is the real thing?" Dean shrugged, tilting distractedly to catch another glimpse at that fine, sweet piece of – "Dean! If you insist on doing this job, at least focus."

"Uh, maybe. Could also be just another hunter. Maybe we'll find out."

* * *

Dean openly ogled as he killed the Impala's engine outside the pristine cemetery several miles from town. Parallel parked in front of them was a rented new ruby Cadillac. And, leaning against the front of the Cadillac, was a woman of average height in dark blue jeans, a white button-up shirt, and a black suit jacket – the woman from the diner.

She idly closed the red folder she had been studying and flashed the badge on her belt. The Winchesters weren't fazed, but rather emerged from the Impala ready to brandish their own IDs.

"Heard someone else was looking into the disappearances," Dean went ahead with a cavalier attitude. "Talked to old man Tyler. Listen, ma'am, we're getting to the bottom of this. We'll have this taken care of in no time."

"I did a little digging myself," the redhead smirked calmly, standing straight and waving her folder in the air. "Local girl said her boyfriend made a deal with some creep to see his dead mother…well, he thought he saw his mother. The kid came to the cemetery and disappeared." Dean raised his eyebrows, slightly impressed and still in macho flirt mode. The woman saw the reaction and her smirk deepened. "Jennifer Wallace. FBI. My superiors wanted me to check out the scene to see if it warranted our concern. Heard there was someone else nosing around. You cops?"

Sam and Dean took the cue and flashed their fake badges.

"Well, Wallace, our departments must have had a mix-up. I'm Agent Kristoff. This is Agent Kyle. Where's your partner?"

"Maternity leave as of yesterday," Wallace replied without a pause. "Local P.D. said they found some sort of weird residue near the family graves."

"Sulfur?"

She paused, seeming to have a lightbulb moment.

"Yeah, actually. You're not really FBI, are you?"

Caught. Dean turned back to his brother, temporarily ignoring the agent behind them. Time to ditch her. They didn't have time for this, and he wasn't in the mood to try convincing this lady that they _were_ FBI. Even if she was hot.

"So, let me get this straight. We have a demon posing as a ghost to lure people into this creepy cemetery and convincing them to hand over their souls or something?"

"Sure. Sounds like it," Sam agreed, looking worriedly back at the agent, who was presently out of sight and busy digging through her trunk. She could call in their bluff to her superiors any second.

The older man nodded and raised his voice.

"Okay, you caught us, we're not FBI. But this is something that I think might be out of your league. We're specialists. And, uh…"

"You're the Winchester boys, aren't ya?"

Dean froze. This was _not_ the time to have the authorities nosing around.

"Uh, no? What makes you think that? Listen, Jean. We appreciate the tip, but I'd steer clear of the ghost stories. Might come back to bite you.""

The woman slammed her trunk shut, plunking a ratty old messenger bag on top, followed by a sawed-off shotgun. She had exchanged her suit top for a beat-up leather jacket and had undone a couple of the top buttons of her shirt. A belt with a machete hung around her waist. Her eyes flashed dangerously, but it was masked with a smirk.

"It's Jen. And I'm not giving you a tip, pal. I was passing through on my way to another job and thought you could use some help. I'm trying to gank twenty demons by the end of the year. They keep popping up everywhere." She paused before slipping a thin knife into the sheath under her sleeve. "So, you _are_ the Winchesters, right?"

"You're a _hunter_?" his giant brother questioned, somewhat surprised. His eyebrows shifted up at her inquiring stare. "Uh, yeah. I'm Sam and this is Dean."

A grin broke out on her face as she nodded to both of them.

"I'm Jen. Jen Webb."

" _Jennifer_ Webb?"

Jen looked confused at Sam's question.

"Yyyeah?"

"Sorry, I just… We heard something happened and you disappeared. Didn't know you were back on the radar."

"I've been getting that a lot," the girl replied blandly. Eager to change the subject, she tossed over her red folder to the boys and continued organizing her gear. "Copies of police records of some strange disappearances over the last six months – all had people talking about deceased friends and relatives before checking out. I talked to a girl earlier who's supposed to meet her dead fiancé here tonight…didn't trust me enough to get a time." She closed her trunk and clanked the bag full of gear on top. "Feel like joining me in a stake-out?"

* * *

"He'd better not forget the pie," Dean grumbled, handing the binoculars to Jennifer. Sam had gone for food, and everything about the dark cemetery was as quiet as death should be.

"You only reminded him fifty times before he left," the woman grumbled back, tossing a carton of bite-sized brownies into Dean's lap from a box in her back seat. Dean stared at the container like a gold mine, though Jen elected to ignore him.

"You're my kind o' girl."

"Hmph. Probably not your type. I'm not that easy."

"Hey!"

Her mind quickly skipped over the other hunter's drama. She drummed her fingers pensively on the binoculars as she stared into the darkness.

"With all these demons escaping from Hell and creating havoc, I can't help but think… You always hear that what makes evil _evil_ is that it's a lack of good – like darkness being the absence of light. Kinda makes you wonder." She shrugged under Dean's scrupulous gaze. "I've had a few…near-death experiences lately and it would make things a lot easier if I knew there was something existing beyond the grave other than what we see. Other than demons, I mean."

"I'm more of a 'gotta see it to believe it' sorta guy," the man mused. "You know, my mom always told me angels were watching over me. Never seen any evidence of it myself, but it was a nice thought."

"My mom said that too." Her eyebrows drew together, but her voice remained ever calm. "In fact, it was the last thing she ever said to me."

"Was that what made you become a hunter?"

"Didn't have a choice. Both of my parents used to be hunters before my sister and I came along. They tried to escape the life." Her calmly severe gaze finally met his. "But there is no escape once you're in…not really."

"What got 'em?"

"Vampires. They got my sister too…eventually. That's when I went off the radar. Did some traveling – out-of-country – that involved a lot more sightseeing than killing. Got a larger perspective on life, I guess. But you can't run forever."

"Oh, well, you're a cheery one," Dean grumbled, snatching back the binoculars.

Jennifer grinned, taking back her container of brownies while Sam pulled up with the Impala and crawled into the girl's back seat. Dean stared doubtfully at the small rectangular mini pie box that had just been handed to him.

"What?" Sam defended, passing Jen her black coffee. "That was the closest they had."

Jen hissed as she burned her tongue on the steaming coffee.

"According to the girl's claim, the guy we're looking for looks nothing like her fiancé…just some poor bloke being possessed by a manipulative demon."

"Yeah, and he probably won't show until his target arrives. Speaking of which."

Without any other exchange of words, the trio got out of the car, armed themselves, and followed the young woman who had just entered the cemetery. Dean led the way, flanked by the other two. The woman led them about twenty yards into the graveyard when a fit, mid-aged man in a suit appeared.

"Quinn?" the girl asked hopefully, but 'Quinn' caught sight of the hunters. The suddenly black eyes made the prospective victim make a quick retreat. "That's not Quinn…is it?"

Dean snorted in amusement at the recoiling blonde.

"I don't think so, sweetheart." Once the girl was out of sight, their attention returned to the demon. "Nice gig you've got going here. Hate to interrupt, but, uh… Here we are."

The unruffled demon smiled pleasantly, removing his jacket and brushing out the wrinkles before hanging it on a nearby headstone.

"Sam and Dean Winchester," he tsked. "And Jenny Webb. Well. I'll certainly enjoy this."

"Against three of us?" Sam scowled. "I somehow doubt that."

"Cocky, aren't we?"

Without another word, the demon turned away and wandered off between the graves. The hunters shared a confused glance.

"Okay," Dean quickly devised. "Jen, ya mind setting up a demon trap in that crypt over there? Sam and I'll worry about getting him there. Do an exorcism. Boom. Done."

"Don't make it so complicated next time, Dean," Jen grumbled, shouldering her bag. "I might not be able to keep up." Jennifer could sense the smirk behind her. "Don't keep me waiting. And don't get yourselves killed."

* * *

Dean rounded an overly large tombstone with his shotgun ready, already working through a strategy to draw the demon to the crypt. Nothing. Sam crept up to his side, looking as perplexed as the older brother felt. Where'd he go?

"Well, if a demon's not trying to rip our guts out, and leaving us high and dry…"

Their eyes popped in realization.

"Jen."

The brothers picked their way back toward the crypt. In the darkness, they could just make out the shapes of Jennifer and the demon inside. Jen rushed toward them as they thundered to her aid and…

Dean felt the wind get knocked out of him as he was thrown backward into the grass with a resounding _thud._ Sam popped back up into sight looking thoroughly baffled

"What the –? Jen, are you okay!" Dean called, coming up short next to Sam upon seeing the demon holding Jen's machete to her throat.

"I'd stop right there if I were you," he crooned. "Should I kill her, or are one of you walking sob stories going to try negotiating?"

"Listen," Sam said, "take it easy. Just let her go."

"And I suppose you want to take her place?"

"Sam," Dean gave a warning growl.

The demon bent closer and lowered his voice so that the boys could barely hear.

"You know, I have a few friends on my speed dial who would just love to get their claws on Sammy as well."

"How do I know you're not bluffing?" Jen muttered back.

The demon slipped a cell phone from his pocket and hit a few buttons. The Winchesters stood at a safe distance, confused.

"Hello, Max, my friend. Yes, I know we got off on the wrong foot last time. But I thought you'd be interested to know that I'm facing off with the Winchesters right now. Yes, I thought you might like that." He gave the woman a pointed look. She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, Max, just wanted to touch bases. Cheerio."

He ended the call with satisfied smirk.

"You boys are too pretty to die," called Jen shakily. Her nose was bleeding and her face seemed drained of color.

"Well, I'm not gonna argue with that…" Dean chortled. But, with a wave of her arm, the thick door sealed itself. "Jen?!"

"Jen!" Sam echoed as they beat against the door.

"I'm dead anyway," they just heard her call.

"Jen! This isn't funny. Jen!" Dean hollered, giving the door an aggravated shove.

"Dean!"

"What!"

The spooked look on Sam's face made the older brother pause.

"Dean, did you see that?"

"Yeah, she's being an idiot!"

"Dean. She closed the door without touching it."

Dean's eyebrows shot upward at the realization. Then they heard voices on the other side of the door, along with snippets of the conversation.

"I came here tonight to collect a soul. Thanks to you, it's run off."

A few muffled exchanges.

"Harsh terms. The thing is…before, we just wanted you dead. But this is even better. Now, we get your _soul_. I'd say we have an agreement."

The abrupt silence was hardly encouraging. The Winchesters locked eyes. Never make a deal with a demon. Dean was about to call out to Jennifer again, ready to try breaking the door down, when a gut-wrenching sound reached his ears. Colorful strings of curses intermingled with increasingly tortured screams and _growls_ pierced the door.

"Jen!" both men shouted, adding their attempts to gain entrance to the din.

The screams slowed died away after a minute and the door flew open. With a roar, the demon was fleeing his host. There was blood smeared on the floor, but no sign of Jennifer. Dean picked up the woman's abandoned bag with a growl.

"Did that dumb chick just sell her soul right on the spot?! Does she know what she just did to herself? She doesn't even know us!"

Sam looked around blankly for any other signs of Jen.

"We should check out her car. Maybe there's a clue there. There's something that girl wasn't telling us."

They searched her car. Nothing. Food. First aid gear. Clothes. Weapons. Salt. Some stray hair ties… Nothing telling them why this random hunter would have taken it upon herself to make a deal with a demon and go to Hell rather than put the Winchesters in more danger.

Sam collected all of the more questionable supplies and stuffed them in a far corner of the Impala's trunk. Dean leaned back against his car, scrubbing at his head in frustration.

"Well, maybe there's a way we can get her out," Sam suggested. "Or, maybe we'll just run across her one of these days. If that happens, at least we have her stuff."

Dean grabbed Jennifer's bag again and rummaged through its depths for several seconds. Was this thing bigger on the inside or something? Finally, he snagged an old leather journal and began flipping through it, despite Sam's feeble protests.

"Well, at least we have her Monster Book of Monsters," he growled, slapping it shut and tossing the book to his now-interested brother. "I just can't shake the feeling that we've seen her before."

Sam's eyebrows seemed to be doing a gymnastics routine.

"Maybe… _No_. Too long ago..."

"What? Did we run into her before? Am I right? Maybe a bar or a hunt or…?"

"We were just kids, though…"

"Well? Enough suspense."

"Halloween, 1990. Dad promised me we'd go to a pumpkin patch." He snorted a laugh, despite his brother's scowl. "Can't believe I remember that. "A woman helped me find the pumpkin we got, then just...disappeared. But she looks almost the same."

"Wait." Dean's face was screwed up with concentration. "I think I know what you're talking about. Weird, though. Pumpkin patch. Hm. Random place to meet a woman who doesn't age right."

"Yeah. Maybe you're right. Maybe there's something more about this girl than meets the eye."

"Said she knew Bobby. Say we make a stop at his place?" His face suddenly lit up with a childish grin. "Maybe we can save the damsel-in-distress."

Sam rolled his eyes, folding himself into the Impala with a resigned sigh.

"Yeah, I'm sure she'd be grateful, Dean…" He noted Dean still rummaging in the back and muttered, "Assuming you're not roommates Down Under by that time…"

* * *

Darkness. Complete and utter darkness. Was this what Hell was supposed to be like? She imagined more fire and grinding of teeth. This was…unsettlingly quiet.

Too quiet. Too dark. How long had she been here?

After a while – it could have been minutes or hours days or weeks or months – Jen started hearing _things_ , regardless of the silence – scuttling legs, sparks, and rustling wings. But she couldn't move to search for them. _Something_ was holding her. She saw flashes of nonexistent light, creatures, invisible entities sneaking up behind her. She was painfully aware of her own heartbeat.

What was happening? What were they waiting for? Was this her torment? The maddening silence?

"Hello?" she finally asked in desperation, having been afraid of what would answer until now. Her voice was sucked into the ether of nothing. "Anyone? Please! _Anyone!_ "


	6. Amnesia

Sooo, I'm very, very sorry for my little absence. Adulting. Also writer's block. But, I'm back on track, with a few chapters written and the story nearly finished, so thank you for your patience.

Amnesia

August 19, 2008

The pain was gone. She was spinning, spinning, spinning…

With a gasp, the woman opened her eyes to the stifling blackness. The air was stale and musty. She tried to sit up, only to bang her head on the wood a few inches above her.

Panic bloomed in her chest, sending a jolt of energy through her extremities. She felt all around her stifling ceiling, trying not to think of what she was laying on as she heard a sharp _crunch._ She pounded on the wood with a string of curses, praying that it would give. It was hollow; at least she wasn't underground. But no luck.

Her hand brushed something that felt like old clothing as she shimmied her hand down to her boot knife and slipped the blade through what she hoped would be a crack. She sighed with relief when the blade did indeed find its way through the corner. She wriggled it about, hoping for some leverage. Nada. She cursed again.

She withdrew the knife and put all of her weight into pounding at the edge of her enclosure. After a few moments, the sound of protesting nails gave way to the lid finally coming off, and it clattered to a stone floor with a dull slap.

"Aw." A coffin. It was a coffin. Why a coffin? She looked behind her to find that she had been napping on a dried-out, desiccated corpse. "Ewww!"

With a growl of disgust, Jen flew out of the coffin. It took a minute of overwhelming revulsion before she finally noticed that she wasn't alone. Slowly, she turned to face her companion, none other than the man she had chosen to leave after being dragged around half the universe. The angel had told her to stay alive; she hadn't done that. How else would this man have known to plunge down into Hell itself to find her? She hadn't wanted him to know about her problems; that's why she left!

" _They_ didn't have the time, so they sent _you_?!"

He drew his attack eyebrows down.

"Who?" he shot back, frustrated.

It was her turn for her eyebrows to shoot up. He looked different. A lot different.

"You've gone grey!"

"Your scar is gone!"

"What?" Her hand shot to her face to search for the webbed scars that were no longer there. "Doctor, how did you find me? I wasn't even on Earth, let alone… I don't know how you could…" With the blink of an eye, her expression went from inquisitive to bewildered. "Wait. Was I really…?"

"Jennifer!" Snapping her jaw closed, the woman gave him her full attention, those big dark eyes fearlessly locking with his. "What, in the name of all sanity, were you doing in _Hell_?"

Jennifer's protesting stomach answered first.

"Let's talk over food."

* * *

October 9, 2008 – Carthage, MO

"Hey," Dean nudged his brother with a mischievous smile, pointing to the three people who had just emerged from an old-fashioned telephone box nearby. "Wanna bet what they were doing in there?"

Sam shot his brother a scandalized scowled, but Dean's enthusiasm was curtailed as the strangest of the three, a man with a bowtie and floppy hair, tripped over to the Impala. So much for enjoying a nice post-hunt beer.

"Excuse me. I'm looking for someone. She's…"

"We're just passing through, pal. We don't really know anyone," the older hunter interrupted, taking a swig of his beer.

"Sorry," shrugged Sam.

"What's with the bowtie?"

The oddball twitched and straightened the item in question.

"Bowties are cool," he gushed. There was an awkward pause.

"No they're not." Dean's gaze happened to land on the gas station across the street. He smacked his brother's shoulder, the color draining from his cheeks. It was her. It couldn't be her. "Uh. Sam?"

He blinked and she was gone. She had been looking right at him.

"What? There's nothing there, Dean," said Sam. Dean took a massive swig of his drink. "What was it? Dean! Pardon the saying, but you look like you just saw a ghost."

"It was the…the…that weird 'you're gonna owe me big-time' chick." Sam just stared. "Tall, skinny girl. Red hair. Always making fun of me? Before I went Down Under, we had that run-in with the psychopath demon that was catching people visiting cemeteries? Said it wanted a sacrifice and you were gonna go. She said she'd take care of it and the demon disappeared…along with her? Come on, Sammy! I'm not crazy. Well. Not _that_ kind of crazy."

Sam's furrowed eyebrows shot skyward.

"Oh…right! How did…? I figured she got rid of it."

"Well, yeah, but…" A mixture of guilt and fright crossed over the man's face. "When I was… She…" He cut himself off, suddenly spooked by the whole concept. "Hey. If she wants to talk, she can come talk. Right now, I'm starving."

"But, Dean, shouldn't we try…?"

"Nope. I am _not_ in the mood for guilt trips, Sam. And that is one chick I don't want to see right now. Pie?"

"Thank you!" cried the oddball. The men jumped, having forgotten about his presence.

The oddball then ran off with his companions. Good riddance.

"Um…you're welcome? Wow. Weirdo."

* * *

" _Come with me?"_

 _The memories were crashing down on her, and he had come back! Of course she would go! She wasn't ready to face the Winchesters again._

Finally settled. No more space/time travel with crazy aliens. Sure, she would miss it, but it was a bit of a relief to just be a normal monster hunter again. Not that there was anything normal about that.

Jen had finally made the choice to top running from her past. Parts of it she would hopefully continue to forget for a while. A good while. He hadn't told her how long it would last…

" _Please, I just want to forget that place."_

 _Her traveling companion looked down at her with sympathy._

" _It wouldn't last forever."_

" _I know. I just need time."_

" _Don't we all?"_

That was over a year ago for her…only a few weeks here. Who, after all, would _want_ to remember thirty years in Hell? No more time-travel. Thank. Goodness. Just normal, crazy hunting.

Jennifer Webb absentmindedly stirred her coffee, overly conscious of her fingers' hold on the spoon to appear normal. Instead, she kept her mind occupied with researching vampires on her laptop. Occasionally, she checked to make sure no one noticed she was using some crazy mind power to skim the webpages, but she couldn't really care less.

Finally, she glanced up at the severe woman who had just appeared across the table.

"Wondering when you'd show up. Couldn't bother to fetch me from Hell personally – had to hire an alien, eh?"

"I thought I told you not to get killed."

Jen stubbornly stuck her finger in her coffee to reheat it.

"Yeah, well, those boys needed some help. Something tells me they were more important. Besides, it did me some good." The angel raised an eyebrow. "I'm not dying anymore. For a long time, I would get a nosebleed and headache just from convincing someone that I didn't need to pay a parking ticket. Not that I ever did that," she added without making eye contact.

"At least you are well. Please refrain from risking your life again."

And she was gone again. Jen snorted as she returned to her work.

"Fat chance of that."

* * *

January 2009

Of course the nearest empty-looking, secure building was a church. How ironic.

The hunter wrenched open her bag to check its contents as she jogged up the front steps. Chalk, spray paint, gun, knife, reference book with dog-eared exorcism, and holy water. Not suspicious in the least.

Jen couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when the inner double door swung shut behind her, blocking out all sounds from the outside world. Without another moment's pause, she turned to go up the nearby stairs to the choir loft. If she could draw him up there…

It only took a moment to draw the devil's trap – chalk so that she could clean it off later. Good thing too, because the demon reached the top of the stairs just as she replaced the area rug. Okay, now go over the rug. _Over_ the rug. _Over_ the… Oh fine. He didn't go over the rug. Smart guy went around. Jen stepped into the demon trap herself with a knife in one hand and the open book in the other. Not in the mood to chat, she didn't give the demon the chance to monologue and dove right into the exorcism.

The demon twitched a few times while prowling outside the trap, then snatched up one of the wooden chairs and chucked it straight at her head. The hunter was thrown off-balance, but stayed in the trap. Two more chairs followed in quick succession, one grazing her head and the other causing her to trip over the banister. The knife had gone flying so that she could grab the railing as she went over, and the book she quickly stuffed in the back of her pants, which left her hanging helplessly over a fifteen-foot drop onto tile flooring. Great. With a satisfied smile, the demon made his way around her lovely trap and flicked her hands away from their anchor.

Despite bending her knees and rolling to soften the fall, Jen distinctly felt a _crack_ in her right ankle. Probably broken. Before the demon could hop down after her, she stumbled towards the sanctuary. She could see the angels kneeling as silent sentinels. The angels the other angel couldn't see. Maybe the demon wouldn't follow there.

* * *

Was Magnus right? About a woman able to see these angel sentinels without any extra help? Did that mean she could possibly see other angels in their natural form? If so, how could that help their cause? Perhaps she could see demons as well.

Castiel turned with vague curiosity as the woman in question dropped from the loft onto the hard floor, a mere ten feet from the pew where the angel was stationed. Seemingly injured, she scrambled to her feet and limped toward the sanctuary; the demon followed a moment later. The woman passed the kneelers near the altar and stopped, staring at something nearby. Something only she could see. When she turned back to face the demon, there was no fear in her eyes. Just an empty calm.

The demon had caught up and was prepared to attack. He was only a few feet from her. He put one foot on the step entering the sanctuary. And stopped.

"What is this?" the angel heard his low growl.

The woman looked back toward the altar with a vague twitch of a smile.

"There's always angels watching. They're always in places like this. Can't you see them? Right now, they're the only thing keeping you from me."

"That will change," the demon snorted. Without further ado, he evacuated his host in an explosive rush of blackness.

When all was again quiet, Castiel was at the woman's side in the blink of an eye. There was no sign of the apparent barrier that had stopped the demon. Or the other angels. But _she_ could see the angels protecting this place. She seemed surprised to see him suddenly appear so close, but didn't try to attack.

"So it's true."

"Excuse me?" she scoffed.

"Come with me."

Without waiting for permission, Castiel put a hand on the woman's shoulder and transported her to where he knew Dean and Sam to be staying. The instant they appeared in the hotel room, both men leapt to their feet.

"Cas?" Dean inquired. "What's going on?"

"Sam, Dean," acknowledged the angel. "Keep her safe."

"What are we? Witness protection?!"

"I don't have time to explain. Just keep her away from the demons."

"Fat chance of that!" the woman snapped. "They've been after me almost since I got back."

"Wait," Sam paused. "Jen?"

The angel looked at the humans in confusion.

"You know her?"

"Yeah, a while before Dean's year was up, she sacrificed herself to a demon that wasn't too picky about whose soul he took." Sam looked hard at Jen. "I remember now. You stopped us from coming to help you. We heard you being torn apart by the hellhound. But, when we got inside the crypt, your body was gone."

"Well, I didn't go willingly. And I woke up in a coffin, so I assume he stashed my body before you guys got in. You know." Her eyes took on a hint of vindictiveness. "Being shredded by a demon's attack mutt isn't something I'd like to repeat. So, let's not do that again."

"Boy, I can second that," Dean muttered. "I guess if it wasn't for Cas… Cas?" The angel has disappeared. "Huh, figures. Well, Cas got me out."

Jennifer nodded.

"I take it we have a lot to discuss."

* * *

"You sure you're up for a hunt with the big kids?"

Jen rolled her eyes and leaned forward from the back seat of the Impala.

" _Please._ I've done loads of stuff that went above and beyond the hunter's call of duty."

"Ooh!" Dean smirked triumphantly. "Bet you've never traveled through time!"

"Guess again," she grinned. "…to other planets?"

"Ye…" Dean's smirk melted away. "Other _planets_?! You're kidding!"

"Nothing to worry about for you. Not your department," the woman waved him off as he swerved. She studied her nails, suddenly realizing that she had something over these legends. "Also almost got killed by something out there and…sort of absorbed its powers."

"What…sort of powers?"

With a mischievous grin, she looked at the younger brother.

"Sam." With snap of her fingers, Sam's hair sported several braids. "Sure you don't need a haircut?"

"Heeeey!" Dean laughed with a childish grin. "Do that again."

"Dean!" Sam objected before staring at Jen. She blinked, and his hair was back to normal. "What sort of creature was this?"

She shrugged.

"Didn't have a body and it was somehow sick…like it was in the wrong time and place. That's why it needed me. It was just a…glowey entity. What's that look for?"

"Well…we know angels and demons are real."

"Hm. I just assumed it was an alien at the time. I never thought that it could have just been a weird possession case. Didn't think of angels or demons ever getting sick, though. Might never find out."

"Well," Dean sighed, "Cas wouldn't have dragged you to us for nothing, so maybe we'll find out after all. Never a dull moment."


	7. Shadows

Shadows

 _Don't worry…about a thing._

Jen wiped away a drop of sweat headed for her eye and kept running.

 _Cuz every little thing…is gonna be alright._

Pad, pad, pad. Breathe in, breathe out. Hardly any cars were visible on this street.

 _Don't worry…about a thing._

A streetlight switched off overhead. Was it really that late already? Probably needed to head back. The boys would be awake by now.

 _Cuz every little thing…is gonna be alright._

She went to switch her mp3 to her rock playlist for the run back. Six miles by the time she would get back to the hotel…not bad for that pace. Had to get her endurance back up somehow.

 _She's my cherry pie…_

There we go. Glancing around, the hunter took off back the way she came.

 _Cool drink of water such a sweet surprise._

Breathe in, breathe out.

 _Taste so good make a grown man cry…_

Jennifer stopped short at the end of the block. She could have sworn there were eyes staring out at her from a hedge across the street. She bolted forward, ready for attack. She knew those eyes, but it was impossible.

 _Sweet cherry pie, yeah…_

Nothing. No one. All clear.

No. Wait. Jen yanked out her earbuds, looking around with wide eyes. She had to think rationally. It was impossible. Suddenly, she jumped at a sound near her feet. A tabby cat appeared out of the bushes at her feet, yowling loudly. Maybe she should have slept in.

No music played the entire run back; her hunter's instinct was on high alert. By the time she got back to the hotel room, she managed to half-convince herself that she had just seen the cat staring out of the bushes. Still, Dean looked at her suspiciously as she slammed the door of their hotel room. He had clearly just opened his eyes a few minutes ago.

"Between you and Sammy…doesn't anyone sleep around here? It's only 7:30!" Jen shrugged. "Hey, you okay? You look a little spooked."

Sam emerged from the bathroom, scrubbing his hair with a towel with his shirt slung over one shoulder. Jen tried not to stare at his abs.

"Cat," she grumbled.

"Sorry, what?" Dean insisted.

Jennifer rolled her eyes and snagged a clean shirt and pants from her bag, bent on a shower. Before closing the door, she called over her shoulder,

"I got scared by a cat."

She chose to ignore Dean's howling laughter, but couldn't help but see Sam's lopsided smile of amusement before the bathroom door clicked shut.

* * *

After Castiel had dumped her with the Winchesters, everything was going…surprisingly well. She proved herself by helping to off several monsters, which was great. Except, she hadn't expected them to be so…openly welcome. No questions yet. Nothing. Nada. What was wrong with this picture?

They were spending the night in a small house with the family on vacation – no biggie. Only, when Jen woke up at 2am, there was a certain disturbance that she couldn't quite shake. Had someone been watching her? In a strange house, alone, at night…it was like the perfect setup for the beginning of a horror movie. Instead of saying a shivering 'hello?', she snagged her pistol from under the pillow and a flashlight she found earlier in the nightstand.

No strange noises. But why did she feel something was wrong? Dean had dozed off on the couch in the next room; but, when she peered out the door, he, his jacket, and his shoes were gone. Sam's jacket was gone too. Maybe they got a call? But why would they leave her? Either way, this meant that she was probably left to deal with this disturbance alone.

Focusing on the light switch near the front door, she turned on the overhead lamp without needing to step beyond the safety of her bedroom. Still no sounds. No movement. Maybe the kitchen. She tiptoed soundlessly across the living room, gun ready. Maybe she was just going crazy. Her telekinesis came in handy for the kitchen light as well.

Well. She wasn't crazy. The window was wide open. And there was a coat folded up on the counter. Worn black leather, size Medium, women's…and probably a Led Zeppelin patch with an angel…or whatever it was…

Before Jen could even touch the thing, the sound of the front door opening sent her fleeing into the dark pantry. There was the creaking of heavy footsteps, breathing, whispering. They stepped into the kitchen, and Jennifer burst from her hiding spot, ready to shoot.

"Whoa, whoa! Jenny, it's just us!" Sam alerted her quickly.

Though Sam's hands were held up in surrender, Dean sauntered in after him with a chuckle.

"Easy, sunshine. Hehe! That was like watching a full-grown mastiff face-off with a kitten." She scowled darkly at the comparison. "Okay, maybe a feral cat. What happened? We saw someone running from the house, but couldn't get a good look." Jen nodded toward the leather jacket while lowering her weapon. Brow furrowed in confusion, Sam unfolded the clothing and held it up. "So…someone broke in and left a used coat?"

Jen bit the inside of her cheek and scowled at the floor. Yep, Icarus patch on the sleeve. This was why she ran away in the first place. This had been why she couldn't face the world for so long. This was why she had taken a break from being a hunter. To adjust, to cope, to learn how to go on alone. She liked being alone, so she told herself. Finally, she looked up at Sam.

"It belonged to my sister."

"I thought your sister was dead?"

Her focus switched to Dean.

"So did I."

"So…" Sam studied the jacket for a moment before handing it to Jen, who wordlessly slung it over her shoulder. "What do you think this means?"

She shrugged noncommittally.

"She's not dead, I guess. Or one of the vamps took her coat."

"But she was attacked by vampires," Dean interrupted. "You know what _that_ probably means."

Another shrug. Her nonchalant expression remained fixed.

"It's been a few years. I've learned to cope."

Silently, she tucked the coat under her arm and walked back to her bedroom.

* * *

"How'd you know it was the old man and not the big guy? I mean, if I was a demon, I certainly choose the big hunk over somebody with one foot in the grave."

Jennifer paused in the middle of cleaning her pistol under the hotel room lamp.

"You mean…before or after I shot him in the face and kicked him into the demon trap?" Jennifer grinned at Dean's pointed scowl. "One of my unique little talents is that I can see demons that are possessing people."

The brothers exchanged skeptical looks.

"I don't know whether to be jealous or sympathetic."

"Neither," she replied blandly.

* * *

 _Noise. So much noise! The red, piercing screams. The metal. The pounding of her heart. The pain…_

" _Ahhhhrgh!" She gulped at the hot air as the blade was taken away. Someone else was there. Her ears were ringing with the abrupt silence. She could feel the blood dripping down to the unforgiving floor. The throbbing agony. The brutal chains that kept her from writhing._

" _You're learning. Good." She hated that voice. If she could just get her hands on that demon even once… "Let's start with a blank slate, shall we?" Her tormenter turned back to her._

 _It's okay._

Jennifer bolted upright, clutching at her heart where the blade had gone through her. Just a dream, a bad memory. They were bound to come back eventually.

She glanced over at the boys to make sure everything was okay. Sam was asleep on the other bed; Dean had passed out on the couch. Her gaze lingered on the older man for a moment, but she soon shook herself and grabbed her jacket and spare change for a soda. It would seem sleep would evade her tonight.

Once out the door of their hotel room, she just let her feet take her past the soda machine and into the nearby park. She just couldn't shake the image of her big sister out of her head – the girl who had taught her and protected her from the day of their parents' death until her own. Jen had abandoned her sister in that house in full confidence that she was dead. She had mourned her death and run away from everything for years just to cope. Now, everything was finally getting back to normal, and suddenly there was Kelsey's jacket.

Jennifer zipped up the leather coat and stuffed her nose into the collar. It still smelled like her too. Halfway through the city park was a playground – nothing too worthy of note – but the sight of someone on the swing set made Jen stop in her tracks.

"You look older, Jenny dear."

* * *

The sound of fighting in the parking lot drove Sam and Dean from their hotel room. Brandishing weapons, they jumped over the railing within spitting distance of Jennifer. The man she was fighting turned on the brothers in surprise, fangs shining in the lamplight before he took off toward the nearby park.

"You okay?" Dean demanded.

Jen flipped her hair out of her face with a smirk, flashing her bloodied machete.

"Should have enough of a blood trail to find his nest."

"Okay. Well, let's grab our gear and wait until daylight. Time for a vampire hunt, I guess."

* * *

Jen searched in vain to see if there was a cure for vampirism. Everything told her that her sister died in that house, but her gut was now twisted into a knot due to recent events. What if… She dared not let herself believe it. Still. Just in case. She closed the tabs on her laptop and flipped open her monster book that had been returned to her by the Winchesters.

A flash of movement at the window caused her to look up from the book. Great. Now she _was_ seeing things. Maybe some fresh air would do her some good. It was nearly dawn.

Out in the parking lot, she could have sworn she heard humming. The lullaby her parents used to sing.

In the nearby neighborhood, it seemed to get louder. She should have gone back for the boys; going alone was stupid and she knew it. She at least took out her machete.

There was a woodsy little cul-de-sac among the houses, and Jen carefully circled it, keeping her eyes open for any traps. She finally followed the subtle rustling among the shrubbery. A woman stepped around a tree into view and the hunter froze. Her chocolate, silky hair was in its signature high ponytail. The sight of those baby blue eyes made Jen's stomach drop. Other than being a little paler, she hadn't changed at all.

"Hey, Jenny." Her voice was hollower than she remembered. She wiped away some blood from her face. "I'll watch your back and you watch mine, eh?"

Suddenly, the other woman spotted the coming sunrise and bolted for one of the houses. As Jen stood there trembling, machete still in hand, she laid eyes on the body on the ground. Another glance confirmed that his blood had been drained.

* * *

Dean finished wiping clean his machete and tossed it in the back of the Impala.

"Why do I get the feeling that we only got part of the nest. Think we could have missed some, Jenny?" No reply. "Jenny?" Jen was staring into the trees of the nearby cul-de-sac. "You see something?"

The woman twitched her attention back to Dean and shook her head.

"No. Nothing. I'm sure we got them all. I'll go help Sam clean up."

* * *

"Dean…" Sam glanced behind him to make sure Jennifer still had her headphones on. "Have you noticed Jenny acting a little strange?"

"Hm. Glad it's not just me," the older man grumbled quietly, turning on the windshield wipers.

"I remember hearing that her sister was killed by vampires. Could that just be it?"

"Her sister?" Dean's lips pressed into a thin line. "Nah, man, it was her whole family. I talked to Bobby a while back. I guess he knew her parents – both hunters until they wanted to start a family. Good hunters too."

"Sounds familiar…"

"Bobby said the family had a little history hunting this particular batch. I guess Jenny disappeared after they got her sister."

"Right…all that weird stuff that happened to her."

"Hey, we've had some unconventional adventures ourselves. I guess I now have two partners with freaky powers. Great."

* * *

Sam jerked awake as the hotel door clicked shut. Jennifer was gone, and he had a sneaky suspicion that she was up to something. Something about this last hunt had her acting funny. If her sister really wasn't dead, they could be dealing with a whole new mound of problems.

Outside, he caught a glimpse of the woman disappearing around the block. He followed her for less than half a mile to an undeveloped lot, where he attempted to remain out of sight. His companion suddenly started yelling at the empty space.

"Hey! I know you're there! Just tell me how to help you. Stop teasing me and show your face! Hey!"

After staring around in a circle, she bolted off toward a half-built house. Sam waited a second before jogging after her. When he reached the house, she was nowhere in sight. Did she go inside, or keep running?

"Why are you following me?"

Sam about leapt out of his skin when Jen appeared at his side from the shadows.

"What's going on, Jen? What's got you so spooked suddenly?"

She glowered at the ground.

"I work better alone."

"Is that so?" he shot back. "Well, I don't believe that's true. Not for a second. You had a partner. You lost her. I know that look. I've seen it on my own face way too many times."

For a moment, he thought she wasn't going to answer. She hugged her leather jacket closer; she hadn't let that jacket out of her sight since it mysteriously showed up.

"My sister. Vampire. Confirmed. Probably from the nest we just disturbed. I…ran away and went traveling. And, as soon as I dare to come back, I end up getting tossed into Hell, of all places. Now this."

* * *

Back at the hotel, Dean sat on his bed with a cup of hotel coffee in his hand, looking quite bleary eyed after Sam and Jen had barged in arguing over her sister apparently showing up. He listened to her attempted explanations and shook his head.

"I don't believe it. After all this time, and you think she's just a hostage? Sounds like a trap."

"Dean, she's my sister. My hunting partner. We were just as close as the two of you. She wouldn't lie to me. We always watched each other's backs."

Sam and Dean exchanged uncomfortable glances, fully knowing that they weren't exactly honest with each other.

"Jen," Sam mumbled, eyebrows crunched together with unease, "there's no way… After all this time, it's…incredibly unlikely that your sister's still…your sister anymore."

"Would that stop you from trying to help Dean?" That silenced the younger brother. She stuffed her monster book into her duffle bag on top of her other possessions. "I'm going alone if I have to, but I'm going to find my sister."

"And if she's a full-on eat-your-face vamp?" Dean demanded perhaps a bit harshly. "Are you gonna do what you have to do or turn yourself into a victim? And what if there's a whole nest with her?"

A low growl erupted from Jen's throat before she grabbed her bag and stormed outside without another word.

Sam looked crossly at Dean.

"Are we just letting her go? She'll get herself killed."

"Sam." Dean drained the rest of his coffee and switched to alcohol. "She's not some idiot kid. She'll do what she has to. No matter the consequences for herself."

"Really? And how do you know that? Why are you going so easy on her?"

"Me? You're the one who backed off like a beaten dog when she got cross! Besides, even if her sister _is_ a vampire and she's not just imagining things, the nest is probably long gone."

Sam paused, curious.

"But we're still gonna keep an eye out for the rest of the nest, yeah?"

"Oh, of course! Wouldn't wanna leave any unfinished business with those creeps. But this hunt might turn out to be the ultimate Easter egg challenge. That nest? If it really is the one that allegedly killed her sister, they also killed her parents…and before that, they led each other on quite a merry chase, from what I understand."

"So, for them…it's a sport," Sam commented in disgust. "And what makes you so sure Jenny won't go on a simple murder binge?"

"Sam, I just know. She's too…tactical for that."

Sam wanted to argue further. He had practically just seen the woman race off halfcocked into the middle of nowhere because she _thought_ her sister was out there. He just hoped she was smarter than that. He'd just started to really like her.


	8. The Family Shack

The Family Shack

August 2009

Priorities had to be shifted since the Seals were in danger of being broken. Now, Lucifer was free and the Apocalypse had begun. They needed all the help they could get. And, with demons running amok, a hunter who could actually see angels and demons could certainly come in handy.

She had a few tricks for evading detection, but he eventually found her. And just in time too, apparently. Jennifer Webb was stumbling down a country road, attempting to reach her 'borrowed' Subaru. She looked like she had been at the receiving end of a beating, and at least one of her fingers was broken.

Castiel appeared in front of her and the woman stopped short, though only faint surprise registered in her dark eyes. She wavered unsteadily on her feet.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," she mumbled tiredly. "What do you want, Castiel?"

"We're fighting a war, and we need all the help we can muster." He paused, looking at the stark surroundings. "Why are you…out here?"

Her strength seemed to be waning.

"I found her. I found…"

The angel caught the woman as she lost consciousness. She appeared to possess all her necessary weapons, so the car didn't matter. He whisked her away to somewhere safer.

* * *

"I thought I told you to watch her."

"Well, we couldn't exactly tie her down. And we were a bit busy with whole Seals breaking situation. She was in pretty bad shape when you showed up, Cas. Do you know what she was doing?" Castiel didn't reply. "Did she say anything?"

"She expected me," the angel mused. "Prior to losing consciousness, she said she found someone."

Sam and Dean scowled at each other.

"Did you happen to see a vampire nest anywhere?"

"That…was not part of my task."

"Well, it should have been. Because, if we don't get a certain glaring issue resolved, she's gonna run off again." Dean glanced over at the sleeping woman. "We _need_ to finish this before we even _think_ of asking for her help with the Apocalypse."

Sam shrugged.

"Well, maybe we can convince her to stop looking?"

"Sam, you know that's not gonna work."

"You speak of her sister, yes? The one believed to be part of the vampire nest that killed her parents?" Cas inquired. "You have to kill her."

"Whoa, whoa! She won't like that."

"She's a vampire, Sam! We don't have a choice, one way or the other. Consider this an intervention."

"What happened to 'she can control herself'?"

"Yeah, well, this has gone on long enough. Cas, can you help?"

"I have other matters to attend to."

"Can you at least put her to sleep so she doesn't come chasing after us?" Cas nodded. "Where did you find her, again?"

"Dean?" Dean jerked his attention toward Jennifer, hoping she hadn't heard any of their conversation. That girl had some freakishly good hearing. "Sam. It's been a long time. Are you guys okay?"

"You're one to talk," Sam chuckled. "When Cas brought you, you were pretty banged up."

Her brief smile faded quickly.

"I found my sister. They're taunting me. They think this is a game. They…" She bit her tongue to keep from ranting. "I know where they are. Before my parents died, we had moved into a pretty normal house. But, right before that, we were squatting in this old shack in the middle of nowhere. My parents stirred up the nest at some point…I don't remember if it started then or a long time ago. They've been on a revenge binge ever since. I need your help. I need to save my sister."

"Jen." Sam slowly squatted down next to where Jenny was sitting. "There may be a cure for vampirism out there somewhere. But, if there is one, none of us have ever heard of it. It's been years, Jenny. Your sister's…not your sister anymore."

The woman looked from Sam to Dean.

"No. I won't give up that easily. Not after so long of not knowing. And just now having an opportunity to get answers. I have to give her a chance. You can't–"

She didn't have time to finish her sentence as Castiel touched her forehead, sending her into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

They must have had a scout. Or watched Cas whisk Jenny away. Either way, the vamps were ready for the Winchesters. The boys, prepared as they were for anything (or so they thought) fell right into the trap.

When Dean woke up, he wasn't sure how much time had passed. The shack/barn had seen better days, but the beam he was tied to was plenty sturdy. The vampires staring him down made it that much more difficult to plan an escape. At least five of them. And where was Sam?

"Shall we turn him or kill him, love? Either sounds rather _fun_."

The speaker was a woman in her early-to-mid twenties – at least she looked that way. She had brown hair and blue eyes. Something told him that this was the source of Jen's sister trouble. The vamp she was speaking to turned out to be the one who got in a fist fight with Jen and was chased off by the Winchesters. The pieces were finally falling together.

"First, we must worry about the others," the male sneered, putting a hand on Kelsey Webb's waist. His gaze snaked back to the prisoner. "Your partner got away. For now. And where's dear Jenny Webb? I hope I didn't cause any internal bleeding."

* * *

"Sam!"

Sam held up his hands in surrender as Jennifer hopped off her pilfered motorcycle. She was already geared up to fight vampires. Apparently, her extreme nomad lifestyle made it easy for her to travel light. Sam made a note to suggest retrieving the rest of her things later from her last ditched ride.

"Jenny, if it helps, it wasn't my idea."

"It doesn't help," she snipped idly. "Where's Dean?"

"Being held by the vamps. We sprung a trap."

"Of course. Well, cue the rescue mission. To start, we know there are five in there."

"Are you sure? You may have missed some before."

"I can smell them a mile away. I've done this for a while too, Sam." She took a stick and drew a rough outline of the shack from memory. "Congratulations, Dean. You get the be the damsel-in-distress."

* * *

Sam Winchester burst through the front door, blade ready and soaked in dead man's blood. Jen dropped through the broken ceiling, offing one of the vamps right away as it was distracted with the other hunter's entrance.

Sam danced around for a moment with one of the females before getting a cut with his poisoned blade and decapitating her. Jen had also moved on, but now Sam's focus was on the apparent alpha male. Dean was already struggling against his restraints, to no avail. Blood sprayed his direction as Jen cleanly eliminated another target, but then she froze, staring at the blade now pressed against Dean's throat. Sam's fight with the alpha was being taken outside. It was just the sisters gazing at each other, motionless, with Dean caught in the middle.

"Kelsey!" Jennifer breathed, a mix of emotions fighting for dominance. Caution won out. "What are you doing? I thought you were trying to get my help."

Kelsey managed to chuckle and pout at the same time.

"Well, of course I needed your help. I need your help to end this feud. With you dead, my mate will no longer be obsessed with putting your head on a spike."

"But the coat." Jen didn't relax her defensive stance. "You reached out to me, after all this time."

"You seemed to have disappeared for a while. I didn't need it anymore. And it caught your attention. I'll be sure to have you buried in it." She smirked. "Well, what's left of you. Now." Dean felt the vamp's warm breath as Kelsey leaned toward his neck. "Should I use this one as a midnight snack? Or add him to our brood? He'd fit in quite well. He's strong…but I sense quite a few grudges. I bet he _tastes_ like vengeance."

"You're a monster," Jen spat. Dean felt the other woman grin against his ear. The dagger at his neck tightened. "Do you even see what you've become?"

"Oh, it disgusted me at first. But then I learned to embrace it. It's not so bad, you know. Not that _he'll_ let you live to find out."

"Kelsey, don't…" Her shoulders relaxed in a resigned fashion. Something had switched off in Jen's mind, just like that. The confusion and despair that had been vying for attention was now replaced by something much more cold and calculating. Dean wasn't sure if this was an improvement over the Jen that had been determined to save her sibling. It reminded Dean too much of himself. "Don't make me do this."

"Ah, that's the look I remember," Kelsey hissed with a smile. Apparently, this wasn't new. "I remember wondering if you'd even mourn me if I died. And after that little trip to Hell I heard you made? What did you become? No wonder you're heartless. You got to be quite the professional hunter, didn't you? Always focused on the next target, waiting to be betrayed or eaten by some creature, not even really caring. I noticed that even after our parents died. Now that I think of it, I don't think you ever even shed more than a couple tears."

"They're dead thanks to your _mate_."

"They started it! The nest was perfectly cozy before Mom and Dad barged in for a massacre."

Jennifer sighed heavily. Now that she had seen for herself…

"So, that's what you think. You think our parents were the monsters. You think _I'm_ a monster." A shadow briefly distorted her features…something Dean recalled almost from a dream. Or a nightmare. "Maybe I am a monster. Very well, then."

Jen seemed to know it would happen before it did. With a dull _thud_ , the alpha's head rolled in through the doorway. Kelsey, overcome with shock and grief, stepped toward the door with a silent scream, releasing Dean's throat. In one smooth motion, Jen took a step back and sliced clean through her sister's neck.

All three hunters watched the head fall, its dark locks of hair flailing limply. After a moment, Jen jerkily cleaned off her machete off and released Dean. The boys started cleaning up the mess after she walked out without a word.

* * *

When Sam and Dean finally returned to their car, Jen's stolen bike was gone; however, as they suspected, she was just around the bend, having returned to her other – also pilfered – car that she had used before Cas snatched her up. She ignored the Impala's headlights as they pulled up behind her, simply staring out into the twilight. She glanced at her passed-down leather jacket before taking a large swig from a flask. They couldn't quite discern the expression on her face – relief, almost.

The boys took the cue from Jennifer, pulling a couple beers from trunk and leaning on it so they were facing the other hunter. There was a not uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. Finally, Sam couldn't stand it. He wanted to offer some sort of comfort or support to this strange girl.

"Jenny…"

"It's okay, Sam," she interrupted, finally looking at them. Her eyes were shining a bit more than usual, but that may have just been the booze. The corner of her lips twitched upward. "I'm glad it's over. For so long, I didn't truly know my sister's fate. I knew she was attacked by the vampires and overwhelmed, but I escaped before I could see…" She took another swig. "I have my memories of her still, but what she became…that wasn't really Kelsey anymore. Maybe in some way…but she wasn't my sister for a long time."

"To the old Kelsey, then?" Sam offered a toast. Both of his companions joined him with slow smiles.

"May whatever heaven she finds herself in have plenty of beer, hot guys, and swimming pools." Another silence. "Why do guys call me 'Jenny'? Only the few people I was really close to called me that to my face."

Sam shrugged.

"I guess I feel like I've known you for longer. You said you traveled through time? You didn't happen to end up in a pumpkin patch in 1990, did you? You talked to our dad, then pointed a good pumpkin before disappearing."

The woman chuckled as Dean's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh yes. That was you? Talk about coincidence. Yeah, I was just passing through. The encounter that gave me these little tweaks – heightened senses and the ability to see angels and demons – was killing me at the time. One good thing about going to Hell, I guess. Got a shiny new body with no scars or terminal illnesses."

"Weird, wasn't it?" Dean agreed, but Sam had other questions.

"Why _did_ you go to Hell for us, anyway? We could have tried to defeat it. Or you at least didn't have to be the one to go. I guess we owe you for that."

Jenny paused in the middle of refilling her flask with rum. A scowl appeared briefly before she retrieved her smirk and finished pouring.

"I was dying anyway. And the angels said you were important. I don't intend to repeat that, mind you," she added pointedly, stashing away her bottle. "So, I hear you boys went and started the Apocalypse. Released the Devil himself and the whole shebang! I must say, you've outdone yourselves."

"Yeah," Dean mumbled, not at all pleased with her choice of subject change. "Not exactly our intention. But we do intend to stop it. One way or the other."

She cocked her head, understanding.

"And I suppose you need all the help you can get."

"Having someone around who can actually _see_ these angels and demons would be pretty awesome, especially now."

"Mind if I help out?"

Dean grinned childishly.

"Though you'd never ask."

Sam nodded with a little more tact.

"We'd really appreciate it. We aren't exactly the most popular hunters right now."

"Word tends to spread when you've given the End Times a head start."

A real smile broke out on Jenny's face.

"Well, I think I could use some sleep. Mind if I ride with you? I think someone's looking for their vehicles. I'll have to actually buy something eventually…"


	9. Screams

Screams

 _The wall came down. Too suddenly. Her ears were assaulted by the sounds of metal and animalistic shrieks and bloodthirsty laughter. Her vision was filled with chains and meat hooks and shadowy figures and all-seeing eyes everywhere._

"Jenny!"

The woman bolted to a sitting position. She had volunteered to take the couch this time, and her back was making her pay for it.

"Gah! I'm awake." It took her a moment to realize that Sam was staring at her with concern. Dean had apparently gone for food. "What?"

"You okay?"

"Fine. I mean, considering I decapitated my own sister. Not exactly the best resolution, but I guess, in a sense, my sister really died a long time ago."

"You really think that?" the giant prodded doubtfully.

"I'm glad it's not hanging over my head. I can't afford to think differently. Should I be in the fetal position, racked with guilt? My sister was lost to me on the day I already thought those monsters murdered her. If my sister was still in there somewhere, this is what she would have wanted."

She stood with clothes in hand, headed for a shower, but she froze. For a moment, she swore she saw dripping slashes down her leg with bits of metal sticking out. But it was gone in an instant.

"Jen." She twitched out of her daze. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. I'm thinking of getting a car today, just so you boys aren't forced to drag me around."

"Actually." Sam sat down on the bed nearby. "We were hoping you'd like to travel with us for a while. We can go our separate ways later. I know you said you like being alone, but…"

"I'd like that," she interrupted. "That thing about being alone wasn't entirely true."

* * *

 _She was chained down. She couldn't see what was behind her – only above. So much red and black and grey. She looked around as far as she could see. Blood. Blood everywhere. And a table and rack with all sorts of unimaginable tools. She thought she heard someone talking, but the screams stayed in the forefront of everything._

 _But then a familiar face. Tortured, dark, terrified. Screaming. Even through all the blood, she recognized him. His tormentor was also dripping crimson, grinning maniacally. The exhausted, dying dread on the victim's face was more than Jennifer could stand. He seemed ready to expire right then and there. Wait. Was she the demon's next target? Was that how Hell worked? Victims being circulated through endless rounds of violence?_

Jennifer's grip tightened on the handle as she pumped gas into the Impala. Great, now it was happening when she was _awake_. She always knew it wouldn't stay suppressed forever, but this was ridiculous. And the last thing she ever wanted to remember was all the ways she had been brought to the brink of death. And the offer every time to torture other condemned souls. And, at times, it was made even more difficult since it was...

"Jenny, I got you some snacks," Dean broke through her thoughts, waving a small plastic bag before tossing it in the back seat.

She smiled vaguely at him. Did he remember? Or was it just a bad dream to him?

"Thanks."

"Hey." He walked closer, leaning against the car. "You okay?"

"Your brother just asked that recently," she chuckled.

"With good reason." He paused, seemingly deliberating whether to continue. "So, when we worked our first…case together, and that went down… Do you…remember?"

She grinned tightly while replacing the gas nozzle.

"I remember I saved your sorry tootsies from a _very_ cross demon."

"Do you remember…what happened after that?"

Jennifer secured the gas cap with a vicious twist.

"First thing I remember is waking up in a coffin."

"No flashes of Hell? Nothing? It's just…gone?"

The aggravated woman froze and looked Dean straight in the eyes.

"Nothing. Blank slate."

* * *

"There's another demon in there, I think."

Jenny brushed the remaining salt from her hands. They had just finished lining this condemned gym with salt to keep their targets from escaping."

"What makes you think that?" Dean mused, arming himself. She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, ye of little faith."

Jen finished packing her gear and stepped into the giant trap they had created. They stood for a moment listening, but it seemed their prey was in an elusive mood.

The woman slunk off to the left of the entrance, what used to be the locker rooms. She could just hear a scuffling noise. A moan. The smell of fresh death. Sure enough, there was the body of a young woman tied to a chair in the far corner. She didn't hear any more of the scuffling, so Jen assumed it would be okay to investigate. Poor girl hadn't died peacefully. The demon was clearly finding entertainment up here.

A hitched breath sounded right behind her. And it definitely wasn't the Winchesters.

Jenny whirled around, ready to defend herself, only to freeze. It wasn't the fact that she could see the demon's real face under the human mask that threw her. She was quite used to that at this point. It was the face it reminded her of...she was sure this demon had been there at _some_ point. She didn't even cry out for help when the demon used her hesitation to slam her against the lockers, pinning her.

 _It wasn't until the demon's fiendish eyes turned on her that Jen was aware of her inability to remove herself from the vicinity of the terrifying tools. Chains digging into her flesh kept her from moving more than a few centimeters. She already felt feverish and weak just from the fiery, lightening-filled atmosphere of the pit. There was a very good reason people didn't want to end up here._

 _But the demon surprised her._

" _Jenny, dear! I've been looking forward to seeing you! You might remember me. Alastair? Should I finish him off?" he hissed. The new arrival just looked confused, so he quickly skipped over to her apparent companion. "Should I stop?" the demon tempted, strategically twisting a barbed wire that was embedded in the man's arm. Jen flinched at the agonizing moan that resulted. "I'll ask you again, as I have every day for thirty years. You know there's a way to make me stop. Do you want me to stop?"_

 _Slowly, shakily, the filleted man nodded. Almost instantly, he was on his feet and completely healed – not a mark on his powerful body. How did he get here?_

 _After collecting himself, he looked up, to the demon's delight, at Jennifer. Her stomach dropped. How did you take away someone's humanity?_

" _Dean?" Her mouth had gone dry as he blindly picked up a rusty razor from the table._

No. Panic bloomed in her chest as the possessed man hulked over her, toying with a razor. His eyes seemed to be gauging any possible weakness, hungering for pain she was far too familiar with.

" _Dean, it's me." He was only a few feet away. Chilling panic bloomed in her chest. She was okay with death. But this? Not so much. "Dean?"_

 _The shell of a man stared back at her, recognition crystalizing in his dead eyes._

" _I…can't," Dean gasped._

" _Can't you?" the taunting voice of the demon teased; Dean recoiled at the sickening laughter that followed. "Do it, Dean. Or you can always switch places. Go back to dying by my hand a few hundred more times. Maybe_ she'd _even be willing to take up the knife. You were the reason she's here, after all._ "

 _She could see it in his eyes. Somehow, Dean Winchester had ended up down here – probably trying to play the stupid hero again – and his tormentors' favorite choice of victory was to break him and force him to hurt other people instead. That was probably the norm. How do you take away someone's humanity?_

 _She could see the terror and the guilt beyond imagination. He had been tortured to death an uncountable number of times; and now, he was supposed to do the same to her. One thought struck terror into her heart: How many times? For Dean, apparently every day for thirty years. So…however many times it took to break you. She could see he couldn't take any more._

 _Would it hurt? A lot, obviously. She didn't want to know what would happen if or when she finally caved to the coming agony. Nothing good. But she saw that Dean was at the breaking point. She took one last look at the sadistic demon and that rack of bloody tools._

She wanted the memories to go away. She didn't want to relive those nightmares. Anything. Even death might be a relief.

" _Dean," she finally said, drawing the attention of those empty eyes. She fought against the churning in her stomach. This wasn't okay. "It's okay."_

"Jenny!"

The booming call shook Jennifer back to reality. Her brief moment of apathy was instantly overtaken by instinct. She knocked the threatening blade away and kicked the demon backward, spraying holy water after it to encourage a retreat. While it writhed in pain, the other hunters appeared, and they swiftly created a circle of salt. Not much, but enough.

Sam started rattling off the exorcism. Luckily, the demon was too busy with its contortions to attempt an escape, and he was gone within two minutes. The host didn't make it.

"Jenny?" Jen looked up from starting the clean-up to find both boys staring at her. "You're bleeding."

Sure enough, there was a fairly deep cut near her collarbone. She hadn't even been aware of it after the demon slammed her into the wall. She'd had worse. Far worse. Despite that disturbing thought, she simply shrugged and went back to work.

"I'll clean it up later."

* * *

Sam opened the Impala's trunk and retrieved some first aid supplies before returning to where Jenny was perched on the curb.

"You should probably get a couple stitches," he advised.

"I'm fine," she grumbled, shifting under the antiseptic's sting. "About time I got some new scars anyway."

"No, you're not fine." The woman's brow furrowed at her companion's casual insistence. "I saw how you froze up back there. You almost _let_ that demon kill you! You're acting like nothing here matters."

"It's not…" She stopped herself. All that she had seen, fighting minor demons certainly seemed unimportant at times. But this was an entirely different matter. This was reliving moments of agony at the hands of someone she cared about. "I care."

Sam sighed, slathering some ointment onto the cut.

"Look. I get that you've been to the future and been traveling to unimaginable places. But I've seen plenty of futures myself, and they're not set in stone. Whatever delusional paradise you have pictured for this planet fifty or a thousand years from now – that could all go up in flames if any of these monsters get their way. We could all die tomorrow and this planet could be demon chow, regardless of what you _think_ will happen."

Jen stared at the ground while Sam finished bandaging her cut. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and contemplative.

"I know. I know we're alone in this." She stared at Dean, who had just joined them. "And I know what we're up against. I was alone for too long. Too much quiet, ever since my time Down Under."

"I thought you said you didn't remember anything?" Dean pried.

"Yeah."

She ignored the attempt and headed for the car, trying to focus her attention on the very _present_ pain of her fresh wound rather than the phantom blood trickling down her back. Years of complete isolation, followed by years of complete pain, all coming back.

* * *

"Need any help with the shopping? I wouldn't mind stretching my legs."

"Nah," Sam replied. "We'll get some food soon and start putting together this case. I got this."

Jenny sulkily shifted to the shotgun seat when Sam left. Dean couldn't help but notice that she was avoiding eye contact. He had known her long enough to see that it was a bad sign. On good days, it was almost disturbing how long she'd hold someone's gaze. Today, for Dean, was not one of those days. Something had been eating at her for the past few days. It was a look he knew all too well.

"You remember, don't you?" She started cleaning her nails. "You could have said something. 'Course, I'm not the best example in that department."

"Not the whole time," she mumbled, staring at the dash. "The man I traveled with before was able to block most of the memories. Temporarily."

Dean nodded.

"The wall came down, I'm guessing."

She fell silent again.

"You were the first thing I saw in Hell," his companion admittedly quietly.

"But that was months. Years, there!"

"Yeah. At first, it was just silence and darkness. I thought I was going crazy. Then, I could hear noises…crawling, metal, screaming. Then I saw you being tortured. You were also the last thing. My dreams are filled with images of you covered in my blood." She twitched. "How many…souls did you end up torturing?"

Dean's face went stony.

"Too many. But…none lasted as long as you." He paused. "Why did you do it? Why did you let me kill you so many times? Did you know someone would get you out?"

Jenny's cheeks flushed.

"No."

"Then why?"

The woman shivered and got out of the car.

"Sam'll probably need help with the supplies."

His hunter eyes caught something that most people would miss – a sudden shift in her gaze and rubbing her wrist to soothe the memory of an injury. Dean vaguely remembered cutting all the tendons in her arms. He remembered doing a lot of things.


	10. Judgement: Part 1

Heads up: More torture.

Judgement: Part 1

"You probably shouldn't do that, you know."

"What?"

Jen sleepily stared at Sam, who had just looked up from his computer to find her spoon somersaulting in the air on its own.

"Telekinesis isn't exactly a subtle art."

She sighed and picked the utensil out of the air very slowly with two fingers. Just in time too, since their waitress was coming to take their order. Dean chuckled when, as soon as the worker turned her back, Jen's spoon started stirring her coffee with a smug wave of her hand.

"I feel like a Jedi," she smirked. "I've been slipping…guess I need to practice these things if I ever want to use them."

"You couldn't do any of that much before, yeah?" Dean pried, taking a drink of his own coffee.

"I had plenty of tricks up my sleeve; not just the telekinesis, but persuasion, keener senses, and the ability to see the true form of angels and demons…might have been just whatever abilities that spirit that tried to possess me had. The more passive things didn't cause problems, but anything that required actual effort made me sicker every time I tried to use them. One advantage of Hell, I suppose," she finished more to herself. "Sam, any hints on the disappearances? Ideas of what we're dealing with?"

"Well…" Sam took a moment to collect his thoughts. "There have been at least three connected deaths so far. They start with the victim being taken at night; some Japanese writing is left, carved into a tree near their home; and a couple days later, they're found dead, having been tortured and at least some of their flesh…removed."

Jen cringed.

"Why the discrepancies?"

"Well," Dean offered, "the one guy who was basically peeled like a peach was accused of murder years back, yeah?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed, looking back at his computer. "He got off on a technicality. The other confirmed two were…a guy on parole after a bank heist and a local company executive being investigated for embezzling. Neither of them had nearly as severe damage."

"Both dead though, obviously," mumbled Jen. "Anything else they had in common?"

"No personal connections. But they all had near-death experiences within the last year or two."

"Shapeshifter? Kinda fits the kidnapping and missing skin, I suppose."

"Nah, not enough pieces fit," Dean disagreed. "We know Reapers can be pretty stingy about getting a soul when it's their time. Could be a Reaper got ticked that these people didn't quite get to the death part when their time was up. And they died the way they almost kicked the bucket before."

Jen shook her head.

"Wouldn't explain the kidnapping, the writing, _or_ the mutilation. With a Reaper, you're more likely to just find someone dropped dead."

Sam cleared his throat to catch his companions' attention.

"Actually, I have a theory on what it might be. The Japanese writing makes references to 'weighing sins of life on the tree'. Between that and the state of the bodies…it might be related to the legend of Shozuka-no-baba. Now, there are different tellings and interpretations of the story, but it's usually portrayed as an old woman who waits at the bank of a river for the souls of the dead. She takes their clothes, or skin, and hangs them on a tree to weigh the gravity of their sins. They're then punished according to those sins."

"Hm, the bank robber was shot in the leg during his heist and almost died from being shanked in the neck in prison…that injury was…reopened when he was found. Same thing with the executive. She had a bad fall years back that broke a bunch of ribs, and that's allegedly how she died."

"The murderer, on the other hand, slit his victim's wrists and throat, and those were his injuries…along with the skinning, but that was postmortem. Guess he was supposed to go by crossing at green light or something."

"I'd say we have a pattern," Dean decided. "Any hints on where we should start?"

As they paid for their food, the hunters paused and looked around.

"You feel like…we're being watched?" asked Dean.

"Yeah," the woman hummed. "Like…I'm being judged."

Sam looked at them both like they were crazy.

* * *

 _Dean felt part of his old self reawaken as his intended victim looked calmly into his eyes. Alastair had finally broken him. He couldn't take any more. Torture would be his reality now; no escape. But not like this. This woman had sacrificed herself for the him and his brother with no hesitation. After all that had happened to her, this was how he would repay her?_

" _I…can't."_

" _Can't you?" Alastair chimed in. Dean recoiled at the sickening laughter that followed. "Do it, Dean. Or you can always switch places. Go back to dying by my hand a few hundred more times."_

 _He could see her fear, but there was something else. Sympathy, understanding, strength. Her gaze lingered for a moment on the table of instruments before returning to him. He didn't want to do this._

" _Dean." No hate, no negotiation. "It's okay."_

Dean jerked awake, shaking his hands quickly before realizing that he didn't have her blood on his hands. Not anymore, anyway.

It was still pitch black out and all was quiet, but something seemed off. He rolled off the couch and walked silently to the empty bed. Sheets tossed aside, no sign of a struggle. He sat down, staring at the wooden nightstand.

Sam squinted at his brother when he switched on the lamp.

"Dean? What's wrong? Where's Jenny?"

The older man scowled at the writing burned into the nightstand.

"This look Japanese to you?"

Sam quickly peered at the writing, which Dean thought might still be smoking.

"Exactly like the others.

* * *

"I understand, you know. I really do."

Jen took a deep breath to try clearing her head. The room was warmly lit, but empty aside from a wooden rocking chair and the table to which she was chained. It smelled of fresh cleaning products, but she could taste the leftovers of the last victims' blood. A cool breeze from the ventilation reminded Jen that she had gone to bed in just a camisole and boxer shorts.

A woman came through the door after a moment with a mysterious smile. She had white hair, but seemed deceivingly young. Jenny guessed she was of Japanese origin. The newcomer approached calmly, her high heels clicking on the tile flooring.

"You really do have remarkable hearing," the woman mused, raising her hand to almost touch Jen's face as she bent down. "No old scars, no memories in your skin. Hell treated you well."

Jen barked a laugh.

"I beg to differ."

"Makes my job harder, you see. I can see what you've been through; but to know your punishment, I must know your price."

"Trust me, I've paid," muttered the prisoner, not nearly as worried as she probably should have been.

"This jacket." Jen glared at the leather coat the woman suddenly held up. "Belonged to your sister, yes? I can feel the memories on it, the betrayal. You abandoned your sister just like you abandoned your parents. I won't hold the latter against you, however…not your decision. Your sister, though…all you, my dear. Do you know the suffering this jacket alone has seen? How heavy the sins?"

The hunter's scowl switched to the face of the woman. She officially didn't like her. How _dare_ she?

"I know what happened. I know I left her, even though I thought she was dead at the time. I also know I was the one who killed her."

"Ah yes, I was getting to that. Abandoned _and_ killed your sister." With a satisfied sigh, the woman began slowly circling the table with the droning _click_ of her heels. "How many of her new brothers and sisters did you kill? How many other _monsters_ have you hunted down and slaughtered?"

Where were those boys? And where was she?

"Just doing my public service," she joked, fully awake now, and aware that this was probably the same person who had killed those criminals.

"And you decided to do the noble thing and take the fast-track to Hell? Thought you could escape me?"

"Well, sorry. I didn't even know you existed."

The critter ignored the casual jibe.

"Do you know what you did down there?"

"Oh. Died a few thousand times."

"Yes." Jen shivered as the woman traced a figure on her flawless shoulder. "I can see the scars on your soul…but not enough for me to judge."

"What makes it your right to judge me?"

The fire in the ageless woman's gaze made Jenny regret that question just a little.

"You are one of two people responsible for Lucifer's freedom."

"Hey, I was nowhere near that cage opening!"

"No? But you and the Winchester boy broke the first Seal that held the cage shut. It was his fall that caused it. The Seal had to be broken by a righteous man shedding blood in Hell…and yours was the blood he shed. You are just as responsible."

"And I think you have a twisted way of seeing responsibility. Neither of us had any control over that situation."

Jen's defiance was halted as her captor covered her eyes with long fingers.

"Let's weigh your worth, shall we? Your enhancements were from an attempted possession, yes? They left a different kind of scarring, but scarring no less." A sense of nauseating disembodiment came over her. The last time she felt that… "Any time you tried one of your tricks, you came closer to dying."

Jen hissed as her head exploded into a massive headache; she could feel the familiar blood trickling from her nose. The sound of her own heartbeat became deafening. It was only her captor's voice that drew her back.

"No, no. No dying on me yet. My, that was a close call for you. Hell really did do you a favor." Jen ground her teeth together as her eyes were uncovered. If not for the restraints, this woman would be in great danger of losing her life. "This one, however, I won't need to hold back. More lost scars…shot by a plasma rifle?"

More blinding pain, this time from the side of her face. Despite her eye feeling like it was on fire, she briefly wondered if the webbed scarring would be back after this, or if it was just the pain the monster was recreating.

Jennifer gasped as the pain receded to a sharp throbbing, tears streaming down her face; and she could vaguely see the woman's lips twisted in consideration.

"Why…are you doing this?" Jen ground out.

"Told you. To know your punishment, I must know your price," was the offhanded reply.

"Ah, I see," she let out a shaky laugh, blinking back the pain. Another bout of nausea hit her when she tried to use her telekinesis to loosen her restraints. Worth a shot. "So, you have to know what price I've already paid to know what I deserve. If I deserve to die."

"Something like that. Though, I have to be careful you don't die prematurely for this next one…considering it's actually killed you before. Starting to wish you still had the scars, yes? Would make things easier for you."

Jenny froze. She could almost hear the growl of a Hellhound before she felt giant claws create long gash down her leg. Did she really have to relive this? She only hoped her screams would attract someone to help. The Winchesters had to be coming soon. She just had to hold on.

She lost count of the teeth and claw marks that were embedded in her flesh before she finally lost consciousness.

" _Say it. Say it! Do you really want this to go on? Give up!_ Say it! _" Dean growled, a tortured, desperate sound._

 _Jen coughed up what might have been part of a fishhook Dean made her swallow earlier. At first, he had killed her fairly quickly, making near-death not_ the _most horrific experience ever. However, it was soon made clear that it wasn't enough for Alastair. The torture lasted longer every time, it seemed, and somehow got worse every time too. And worse, Dean seemed to be losing more of himself every day. Sometimes, she thought he was_ enjoying _it. No, she_ knew _he was starting to enjoy it._

" _I lost count of the times I've thought of it."_

" _She's strong, this one. It's always those 'innocent' souls that cause problems for us. Even I'd find her difficult. Of course," Alastair circled his apprentice like a starved tiger, "these types also make the most dedicated, amusing pawns – why, just look at you, Dean! – already my prodigy. I mean…it helps that you're under constant peril of being put under the knife again…" The threat was barely masked. "…but you're truly gifted. If only…" He hungrily eyed Jennifer. "…we could find a way to break her. Let's try this again."_

 _Jen shivered despite the heat when the demon waved his hand, and her body – could it be called a body when it was only her soul? – was returned to perfect health. All the jagged cuts, bruises, burns, breaks, and maiming were gone in an instant._

 _Dean avoided her empty, empathetic gaze as he examined the table of instruments, but Alastair watched her every twitch for her breaking point. But something in Jen wanted to make Dean look at her. All she saw was pain. None of this was his choice, whatever he had been beaten into thinking._

 _He picked up a red-hot brand that glowed despite not being kept in a furnace. She gulped._

" _Dean…"_

 _His eyes shot to meet hers, but they were just as empty. In their own way, they had both been forced to stop caring. Maybe he enjoyed it by now, though. It was silly, but maybe she could help by keeping him busy with her for as long as possible. Something in her twisted memory told her that he probably had someone in the real world trying to get him out. Sam. That was it. If she kept him busy, when he got out – if he got out – he would have fewer faces haunting him. She knew how that worked. She had plenty of faces that haunted her dreams. She didn't want to add any more to his. She was just as much a monster._

 _It's okay._

Jennifer cried out as her torturer jabbed a finger into her shoulder where a hound's jaw had closed around it. Just like with the possession effects and the gunshot wound, she could feel a faded version of the damage, but at least it was fading a little.

"You don't get to sleep until I say so." The woman's face seemed to be getting more gaunt and cruel by the minute. "You see, you're a special case. You're the first person who's gone all the way. You went all the way to Hell before coming back, perfectly flawless. Cheating me out of my prize. We haven't even touched half of what's carved into your soul. We're not done."

Jen's vision flickered for a minute as she tuned out the woman's rambling of her wrongdoings and the price she had paid.

She had never seen them outside a church before, but there they were. Shining young agents of Light that only she could see. A woman and a man, neither smiling but still full of compassion. They were what many had lost. And they were here to help the hunter stay strong… Her time wasn't done…


	11. Judgement: Part 2

Judgement: Part 2

"It's been over a day! The Shostakovich thing could've killed her by now!"

"Shozuka-no-baba," Sam corrected, not turning away from his research. "And I think I've found a location pattern on where our victims were taken." He pointed to the map on his laptop. "I have a theory that our killer might be trying to blend in…these houses are right along the river. We can't exactly go breaking down all twenty doors, so I'm trying to find a way to narrow it down."

Dean paced angrily. He'd already gone on a walk to find any signs of their companion, plus two drives and three food runs. Sam knew that his brother felt like he owed the woman something, and they'd already lost her once to some crazy demon…they preferred to not have a repeat.

"It should'a been me!" the older man finally groaned.

"Don't get your hopes up. She died and went Down Under sooner than you did, so you could be next."

"Yeah, but…after all I put her through, it should be _me_ being punished for my crimes. Not her!"

"Dean, you were tortured for thirty years! You already paid for any crimes tenfold!"

"But she didn't have any! In the end, I…I tried to break her! I didn't want to hurt her anymore. And I started to enjoy it by then, too. You know how long it was before she was rescued? Six years, just the two of us and Alastair. I don't know where they had her before that."

"But at least she was rescued, Dean! She wasn't tortured for nearly as long as you."

"Not by me, at least. And, when I was under the knife, I at least had my hate for Alastair to keep me going. Jen, she… I don't think she ever hated me. And that made it worse. She acted like she deserved it. She didn't!"

"Dean." Dean stopped pacing at his brother's commanding tone. "You can grovel when we find her. I care about her too, but this isn't helping."

"You don't understand, Sammy. If you're right and this creature is going to make her relive all of her past injuries…it has six years of torture to work with."

That certainly gave Sam extra motivation to find Jennifer before it was too late. If Dean really was the next target, he couldn't let him relive those years in Hell.

* * *

 _Jennifer moaned dully as salt was rubbed into the open wounds on her back. She couldn't scream for the moment; her voice was broken for the day. She couldn't twist away from the pain; the barbed wire around her torso was wound too tightly. She couldn't vomit; even last time, only blood came up._

" _Hm, shame about the face," Alastair considered, grabbing her dislocated jaw. She glared at him with her good eye. "I hate to waste it."_

 _With a wave of his hand – barely even that – all her injuries were gone. Again. Back to merely being bound by twisted chained, her flesh intact, her shaking will still standing. Dean was getting good. In fact, she was sure now that he had come to enjoy this…finding new ways to torment her. It had become a game. They weren't fellow hunters anymore. Just torturer and captive. He wore power well._

 _She kept her eyes closed, trying to match the steel determination of her junior jailer. Most of the time, she tried to ignore Alastair; but, considering he was the one who healed her every time, it was difficult._

 _She was tired. She was so close to just giving up. And they knew it. But then a whisper in the back of her mind told her to hold on just a little longer. Help would be coming. So, she would keep going._

The angels were still there, small comfort that they were. Jen found herself choking on her own blood for a good minute before Datsu (the nickname she had decided to give the monster) rolled her eyes and magicked away the excess blood.

Jen shivered helplessly, attempting to focus on any part of her that wasn't in agony; she failed. Next was to focus on her jerky, suffocated breathing, slowing it down in an attempt to calm her skipping heart. Even if the Winchesters came, would she be alive enough to be worth the risk?

She waited for the next torment, not even remembering what it could be anymore. But there was nothing. She squinted her bloodshot eyes at Datsu, who was standing a few feet away, looking thoughtful. Her white hair and blouse were neither stained nor rumpled…no sign of the occurring horrors. In the moment of silence, Jen was fully aware of the drops of blood drizzling from the slash below her ribs. Finally,

"You are a murderer. A unique one, I admit. You abandoned your sister and are directly responsible for her death. You participated in the breaking of the first Seal to free Lucifer. In many ways, you still deserve to be down there."

Jen didn't try to defend herself. The time she had been under this woman's watch had been filled with such accusations. In many ways, they only confirmed what her inner demons had told her for ages. She left her family to die. She slaughtered her only remaining relative. She was a born killer. Her own sister had pointed out how heartless she could be. She wouldn't, however, let this horrible creature not have a piece of her mind if she really was about to die.

"I see your soul too," she whispered hoarsely, "and trust me, it's blacker than mine."

Datsu's expression remained neutral, back to the ageless beauty.

"You have my sympathies for what the demons did to you, but you must die. As a favor, I will not review the rest of your price. In a way, for all you still remember, this is a gift. I will make it quick, but I cannot change my methods."

Jen blinked in surprise. The angels had left.

* * *

Before the brothers even thought of knocking, they picked up what was unmistakably a tortured, dying scream. They instantly kicked the door down and followed the racket to a closed door further in the house. The screaming had died down; however, when they opened the door, they discovered an old crone with white hair hunched over her twitching victim, who was strapped to a table under the faded lighting.

From the wheezing hiccups of breath, the creature was killing their friend. Alerted to their presence, the Shozuka-no-baba jerked around, her face transitioning to ageless beauty even as she hissed,

"The Seal-breaker. And the demon child. I'll get to you soon enough."

With a smile, she turned back to her victim, but Dean barreled into her with Ruby's knife going straight into her heart.

"Not gonna happen."

Yanking the knife free, he didn't even wait for the body to fall before helping Sam undo the restraints.

"Jenny, it's okay, it's okay. We're here."

Jenny's breathing was still ragged and shallow. Luckily though, the killing blows the monster had been using had only begun to make an impact – several deep claw marks on her legs and abdomen that would need stitches. She had died last time from a Hellhound attack; only made sense. What didn't make sense was the agonized yelp that she emitted when Sam tried to help her sit up.

"Jenny, it's okay," the giant encouraged her. "She's dead. Your wounds should heal okay."

Jen kept her eyes closed tightly, clinging to the boys' arms like a lifeline and struggling to compose herself. Dean, testing a theory, touched a spot on her neck where he remembered choking her with barbed wire. She practically growled from the pain.

"Sam, put her back down." Sam looked confused, but obeyed. "Go find water and any supplies to get her cleaned up." At that, the younger sibling paused, expecting an explanation. "I think that thing made her feel a lot more than we see."

"Wait."

"What?"

Sam squinted through the dim, surveying the damage.

"Scars."

"What?"

"Dean, she didn't have any scars before."

That was all Sam needed to jog back outside. Dean stayed behind, noting the jagged white webbing that now practically covered Jennifer's entire body. The gunshot wound she had before Hell was back on her face. Sharp, puckered lines gave away a few tokens of the Hellhound attack, though the monster seemed to have been saving the worst of that for killing her.

Then there was the rest. Brands, burns, faded dots on her neck from barbed wire, long lines of white left from razors and knives…Dean's own handiwork. He was shocked back to the moment as a cool, clammy hand slipped into his.

"Dean…"

Her breathing had slowed to normal and her eyes were opening, but the occasional shiver and her reluctance to sit up still gave away her drained state. Dean leaned heavily on the table, unable to tear his eyes away from those scars.

"I'm sorry," he choked defeatedly.

"Sorry for then, or sorry for now?"

"Sorry for what I became. I still can't believe how you shut it out, what I did to you."

"I didn't shut it out." She paused, studying his face. "Dean. It's okay."

"Stop saying that. It's not okay, Jenny."

Stubbornness winning out, the woman forced herself into a sitting position, managing only a faint cringe. She took a moment to numbly consider her new scars.

"Dean, none of it was your fault. You stood strong longer than most anyone could have. This is Hell we're talking about. None of us stood a chance on forever." Dean found very little comfort in that. "Dean." The calming sound of her voice forced the hunter to make eye contact. "It's not just angels and demons I can see. I've found that I can see other souls when I want to. We all have our own demons, our darkness. Our actions aren't for nothing. Trust me, you have a kinder soul than you think."

Sam finally got back and went to help Jen off the table.

"We can patch you up in the living room upstairs. Better lighting."

* * *

Jennifer Webb slept soundly, disturbed only by memories brought about by her twinging scars. Finally, though, one of the nightmares was enough to wake her.

The Shozuka-no-baba's living area conveniently had three large couches. The Winchesters had decided to stay there the rest of the night to give Jen a chance to recover a bit. Both boys were passed out, their expressions relaxed in their slumber. But someone else was here.

The woman sat up perhaps a little too quickly at the angel's proximity, right on the edge of couch.

"Castiel," she greeted, shifting as her fresh wounds began to itch.

"Are you alright?"

She cocked her head at the question.

"Not really, considering I just had a bunch of memories dug up that would have been great staying buried."

Cas seemed to notice her discomfort and placed a hand on her knee. She instantly felt her fresh injuries disappear, stitches and all.

"Your wounds and the side effects of your possession are gone, but I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about the scars."

"That okay. They were always there, even if no one could see them. Thanks."

Cas just stared a moment. Jen held his gaze unblinkingly.

"You watched out for him. You endured for as long as you were required. Did you know it was him torturing you that broke the first Seal?"

"I knew something happened."

"Why?"

Jenny took a moment to respond to that. Why did she let herself be tormented for six years?

"I didn't want more faces to haunt him, if I could help it."

"Did it really matter? He still tormented hundreds if not thousands of souls."

"But I saved him from having thousands of others tiptoeing through his conscience. However small the impact was…" She shrugged. "…I think it was worth it. Someone had to watch out for him down there. Guess you coulda called me his Guardian Angel. Is there such a thing?" Cas remained silent. "Cas?"

"Not my department."

"I've heard there are angels being killed. Could they have been wiped out?"

"Many things are uncertain."

"That's not a no." She leaned forward to catch Castiel's gaze again. "I saw your friends again…the ones you couldn't see before. I think there's something I need to do. And it has something to do with them."

"You'll be leaving?"

Her eyes shifted to Dean, then Sam, then Dean again.

"I'm just a walking reminder, at this point. These boys have enough problems without me." Cas nodded. "If you need help, just look me up."

* * *

Jenny stayed with the Winchesters for a few days after the Shozuka-no-baba incident. She managed to half-convince Dean that he didn't need to feel guilty over what had happened. On the third day, Sam walked into their trashy hotel room to find Jen packing up her things. He handed her the extra coffee he was holding when she paused. Her new brown denim jacket was zipped up all the way to conceal the scars below her face; they fit her, though he wouldn't tell her that for a while. Her sister's old Led Zeppelin jacket had been tossed into a bonfire two days ago.

"You're leaving again."

She sipped her coffee somewhat sheepishly.

"This time is different. I talked to the angels…the 'sentinels' or whatever. I think they need help."

"Yeah, because we've had such great luck with angels so far," Dean grumbled as he strode through the door.

"These are different they're…untainted by the fear and hate that has somehow overtaken angels like Uriel. If they can help our cause, then I have to do what I can. I don't know why my encounter with that spirit made it so I can see them – Cas can't even see them! – but we need allies."

"This doesn't have anything to do with…" Dean gestured broadly at Jennifer.

"The scars are part of who I am now. Nothing we can do." She set her coffee aside and went back to packing. "I forgave you a long time ago, you know. We're hunters. This sort of stuff is just a hazard of the job. You boys know that."

Dean grunted unsatisfactorily, but Sam knew he'd get over it eventually.

"Alastair is dead, by the way, if that helps."

Jenny froze, her expression stony.

"It does. He was the one I blamed anyway." She rolled her eyes. "Dean, the puppy-dog look is only going to get you so far. I'm sorry, but Sam is much better at it." Sam furrowed his eyebrows guiltily and she laughed. "I'll be back. Lord knows, I can't seem to stay away from you boys."


	12. Thanks from the Devil

Note: This episode occurs around the events of "Abandon All Hope..."

Thanks from the Devil

Jen sipped her coffee, enjoying a book despite the crisp winter air. She had managed to find a quiet park bench with no snow on it, just in sight of the half-frozen creek. Even with her superficial calm, however, she could taste the tension on the air. Something was about to happen. Something very bad.

"Hello, Magnus. Was I right?"

She turned to the regal angel who had just appeared beside her.

"In a town called Carthage. Many Reapers. A few hunters and Castiel are attempting to face off with Lucifer."

"I've been to Carthage before, I think."

Magnus ignored her pointless musing.

"The vessel of Michael is in danger."

"My friends are in danger. Who's participating in this fight?"

"The Winchester boys, the one called Bobby, and the former bar-owner and her daughter."

"Ellen and Jo…"

"We can't stop the Apocalypse."

"We can try. We have to at least find out what's going on…help if we can. Let me get my stuff from the hotel, then we can go."

"You should call some of the Sentinels to join us."

Jen closed her eyes for a moment.

"Done."

"You're improving."

"You almost sound impressed," Jen smirked.

* * *

Jen double-checked her armament as Magnus removed a hand from her shoulder. They had appeared just outside the ghost town that was Carthage, not long before midnight. The Sentinels were already waiting – perhaps a dozen of them – but the hunter noted that they hadn't gone any closer.

"Something is keeping us from getting in, isn't there?" One of the angels nodded. "Can we beam past it?" The same angel shrugged. "It's worth a shot." The angel considered her suggestion for a moment before nodding.

In a flash of light, Jen found herself standing on the opposite end of town. The angels were nowhere to be found, which was deeply concerning. The mysterious barrier had only allowed her. If Lucifer was here and she was alone…

The rhythmic grind of digging snagged her attention and curiosity got the better of her. If the Devil himself was here, he probably was already aware of her presence. Walking slowly to ensure her footing over the uneven ground, she followed the sound over a small hill. A number of demons were mutely congregating nearby, but they took no notice of the new arrival. Lucifer was smiling up at her, silent for a moment as she surveyed him. His host was decaying, but she could see the dark power beyond it. However great the fallen angel had once been, she could see the twisted, corrupted mess his soul was now.

"Your friends couldn't come with you on this trip, Jenny," he finally said, surprising her with the…welcome in his voice. "They might be powerful and have the ability to cloak their presence, but I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. In my opinion, they're spreading resources too thin. Oh, don't worry. I won't kill you. Not yet, at least. I'm still hoping you might join my cause. Especially once Sam gives me a 'yes'."

His disinclination to kill her gave the hunter an extra boost of bravery. She briefly considered trying to use her powers to convince him to let her go.

"There is no motivation big enough for him to do that."

"You have quite the willpower; I'll give you that. It's too bad we couldn't have met while you were on my turf." She sniffed her disgust. She could smell his rotting host even from ten feet away. "Fun fact: the angel that gave you your little eccentricities was a friend of mine. Used to be, at least. He liked to fiddle around with time and space. I guess it caught up with him finally. Lost his mind and was dying when you came along."

"What are you going to do? You have the upper hand; I can't kill you alone, and the Winchesters aren't here yet."

Lucifer leaned forward with a smile. Jennifer's skin crawled when she realized how pleasant his smile somehow was.

"I like you. It's not just because you were instrumental in helping to break the first Seal…which I'm grateful for, by the way. It was a tragedy that you were punished for it." He nodded to her scars. "I can see the way you think. So…sickeningly selfless! You fit with the Winchesters perfectly. Which one are you gonna fall for? It's the eyes, isn't it? They both have that sad hurt puppy look that just makes you want to take them home with you." Jen scoffed. "And you're so feisty! Dang, if you don't side with me eventually, I'll be sad to lose you. As much as I'd like to show you the spectacle that's about to happen, I don't want you to get caught in the crossfire, my dear, so…off you go."

Lucifer snapped his fingers and Jen cursed at finding herself back on the outskirts of town, surrounded by the detachment of Sentinels. They waited patiently for her to explain, but they probably already knew. Magnus came up beside her and touched the invisible barrier.

"I suppose the Winchesters are on their own," the older woman mused.

"Why didn't he just kill me?" Jen shook her head. "If God has you folks listening to me and you're really a threat, why doesn't Lucifer just do away with me?"

"He's hoping that, if you side with him, you can force the Sentinels to fight for him."

"Not like I have that much control. He said he liked me."

"For some reason." Magnus considered her next words. "Would you? Join him, that is?"

"Of course not!" Jen breathed. "I wouldn't even consider it."

"Remember how you went to Hell? What if he offered something priceless? What if he threatened one of your hunter friends?"

"If it came to that, he'd probably kill them even if I did join him."

"True," the angel nodded. "But thinking of it as a possibility and actually facing it in the moment are very different things."

"Are you just waiting for me to mess up?"

When she didn't get a reply, Jen realized that Magnus had vanished. If she was going to become strong enough to even participate in a fight against Lucifer, she would need help. The first person that came to mind wasn't exactly the most promising, but she'd take it.

But first things first. The Sentinels were becoming agitated. They could feel the coming storm. Lucifer was about to unleash a new terror, and they were in no position to stand against it, at the moment. Jennifer had the feeling they would stay and fight if she wanted; however, she had no idea why they listened to her at all. There was no point in staying. She knew Cas would make sure everyone got out safe. And the logical place they would go…

* * *

The angels dropped Jen off in Bobby's house, where she promptly borrowed a glass of booze while she waited. The wait wasn't long.

Her friends trudged through the door. She didn't need her superpowers to know something had gone terribly wrong – more than she already knew. None of them were surprised to see her. They stood silently and grim, so she took the lead.

"I tried to bring the Sentinels to help, but Lucifer created a barrier that kept them out. I'm sorry."

The Winchesters were looking at everything but anything living in the room, but Bobby was a little more helpful.

"It wouldn't have done any good, you gettin' yourself killed too."

The woman then realized the reason for this gloom.

"Jo and Ellen aren't with you. Did they…?" More avoided eye contact from the brothers. Even Bobby didn't want to say it. "I thought I told you to call if you needed help!" she grumbled. "Maybe I could have done something. Maybe…"

Evidently, the brave women hadn't died peacefully. At that thought, Jennifer poured herself another glass and stormed outside. If she was to have silence, she wanted to not be around this tension that was swallowing the room.

Outside on the porch, she sat and saluted the empty air before gulping down her drink in Ellen and Jo's honor. She was staring at her drained glass when Cas appeared and sat beside her.

"You knew them?"

His voice was typically growly and cool, but she sensed a new curiosity about him.

"Everyone knew Ellen," Jen snapped before bowing her head in apology. "She was an old family contact. Kelsey and I used to always stop by to say hello. She served me my first legal drink." Beyond a grim twist of the lips, her expression gave away no signs of mourning. "I'm sorry. She was…the last contact I really had with my old life. Everything else is a mess."

"How so?"

She snorted.

"Not including my stay at the torture suite in Hell. I've lost everything from my past. The Apocalypse has started. I have no idea why the angels listen to me, or how far my power is supposed to go. And my closest acquaintances currently are all the people on this property. A gruff recluse, a confused angel, and the supposed vessels of Michael and Lucifer."

Castiel looked at Jennifer with a slightly bemused expression.

"Yet you care about them."

"More than anything. And apparently that's a problem." She set the glass down and stood up. "I need answers, and I won't find them here. And my presence won't help them now. Keep them safe, Cas."

* * *

"Chuck? Chuck Shurley?"

Not even bothering to try closing the door on her, the skittish man backed into his house, grabbing the bottle he apparently had set down to answer the door.

"You," he stammered. "How did… How did you find me?"

"I can be persuasive," she replied cryptically.

"Oh, I know. Boy, do I know…"

The woman kept following her retreating target until he tipped onto his couch with a defeated sigh.

"Good to know. So, this question should be easy. You're the one who's been writing about the Winchesters. Is…" Did she really want to know? "Is there anything about me?"

"Um, yes?" Chuck had finely calmed down a bit. "You're one of my favorite support characters. Or…you were until I found out you guys were real."

"And the threat is real too," she persisted. "I have the power to direct an army of angels. But it's useless if I don't know…why! I tried facing Lucifer, but he just blocked them out...not even a chance to fight! He just wished me away like an annoying child."

"You…are in my books."

Jen froze, slightly taken aback at the admission. She thought this venture would just be a wild goose chase.

"Really?"

"Jennifer Webb? The epic, hot female hunter who could go toe-to-toe with Dean, if she wanted?" Her cheeks reddened. "The girl who lost everything and still kept fighting? The woman who can see and talk to angels that no one else sees, and command them to stand against the flood of Evil? Heck yeah!"

"Oh."

She sat down awkwardly, running a hand over her scarred arm thoughtfully.

"I'm sorry, by the way. About the scars. I had a vision about you getting them. She didn't…make you go through _all_ the torture from Hell, did she?"

Jen sniffed a laugh.

"No, she decided to be merciful and try killing me after seeing the first few months or so. She skipped around, I think. But Chuck, I didn't come here to talk about my scars; I came here for answers. Do you know anything about my purpose with these abilities? How do I even get close to using them?"

Chuck shrugged.

"Keep practicing your abilities? Strengthen your ties with the Sentinels? They're bodyguards and sentries, not an attack force. You can't just have them charge in the front door. Protect the defenseless and support your friends. The Winchesters are great guys, but they can't do this alone. They need you and the Sentinels, even if they don't realize it."

"Why? Why did this happen to me? If the other angels are so clueless, who's giving the orders?"

"They don't have an endless chain of command. There's no corruption in their ranks. They pretty much get directives straight from the Head Honcho." Jen stared at the floor. "You've probably noticed that they're not very talkative."

"But I can sometimes sense their intentions."

"That'll get stronger only if you practice it."

"None of this makes sense."

"Does it make sense that Dean is the intended vessel for Michael and Sam is being hunted by the Devil? Does it make sense that I'm some prophet and angels seem to be having a civil war? Does it really matter what we're dealt with so much as what we do with it? You have a mission that may seem small and vague at times. But I guess it's important enough that someone very high up is asking you to do it."

Jenny laughed.

"Chuck, that almost sounded wise."

* * *

A commander for Heaven. A human who could request help from a host of radiant bodyguards and watchmen. No possession. No demands. Simply a power put in her hands with a question of how she was to use it.

Right after her visit with Chuck, she had called – more like prayed – for a few Sentinels to come and asked them politely to go help protect some of the innocent civilians in the wake of Death's release. They went without question. Now at an acceptable hotel, she was preparing to turn in when Cas showed up.

"You haven't been trying to hide yourself from me."

She shrugged.

"No reason to. And if I attract any unfriendlies, I'll probably be able to get the Sentinels' help."

"You visited Chuck."

"So? I needed answers." She began turning down the bed. "And the Sentinels aren't very chatty, even if I can see them."

"What did they tell you?"

"That I was given a gift. That I can't just see them; I can command them…or at least give strong suggestions. There's a plan at work here; someone's trying to help this fight with reinforcements. But I can't see the big picture. I thought Chuck could help."

"You accept that God has a plan for you."

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Why did you agree to help us? Dean refuses, no matter what the cost may be if he does not help."

"Your buddies aren't exactly the most tactful, I admit. Personally, I probably would have refused too, in Dean's position."

"Why?"

"They asked politely. They didn't try to force me with talk of fate and threats. They told me the danger and asked. Whatever changed over the millennia, Cas, it wasn't for the better. People change; angels are supposed to be…more stalwart, I guess. The Sentinels are…untainted. They get orders from the Big Man Himself."

"What will you do?"

"Help where I can. I'll rejoin the Winchesters eventually, but I doubt they want to see me right now."

"You are loyal to them."

"I care about those boys. A lot. Sometimes, I think they need someone to stop them from getting at each other's throats. Or throwing themselves in front of a bus to protect each other. Whatever they may think, we're not alone in this fight. We never were. _You're_ proof of that. As for Dean…much has happened. But I still trust both of them. I have a purpose now. You have my number, and I have hunting to do. Maybe I'll find some answers."


	13. Front Lines

This chapter occurs around the events of episode 5.20, "The Devil You Know."

Front Lines

"And then Dean just walks…right out the door with Crowley."

"Well, look, Sam," Bobby sympathized, "I got no love for demons, and, yeah, this whole thing is crazy, but…I don't know. After a year of chasing up zilch, maybe it's time to go crazy."

Sam scoffed.

"Yeah, maybe. Hey, Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"Uh…remember that time you were possessed?"

"Yeah. Rings a bell."

"When Meg told you to kill Dean, you didn't. You took your body back."

"Just long enough to shank myself, yeah," the older hunter confirmed grimly.

"Well, how'd you do it? I mean, how'd you take back the wheel?"

"Why are you asking, Sam?"

Sam took a swig from his whiskey bottle, knowing Bobby wasn't going to like this plan.

"Say we can open the cage. Great. But then what? W-we just lead the devil to the edge and get him to jump in?"

"You got me."

"What if you guys lead the devil to the edge and I jump in?"

"Sam."

"It'd be just like when you turned the knife around on yourself. One action – just one leap."

"Are you idjits trying to kill me?!" Bobby exploded.

"Bobby –"

Bobby was having none of it.

"We just got done talking your brother off the ledge, and now you're lining up to say 'yes'?"

"It's not like that. I'm not gonna do it. Not unless we all agree. But I think we got to look at our options."

"This isn't an option, Sam."

"Why not?"

"You can't do it. What I did was a million-to-one, and that was some pissant demon I was brain-wrestling. You're talking about taking back control from Satan himself."

"Yeah. Yeah, I am."

Maybe bringing this up to Bobby was a bad idea. He was just as close-minded as Dean when it came to this topic…

"Kid... It's called 'possession' for a reason. You, of all people, ought to know."

"I'm strong enough."

"You ain't." Despair and anger bubbled up. Bobby didn't know that…even though he was practically the boys' father. "He's gonna find every chink in your armor, Sam, and use it against you…your fear, your grief, your anger. And let's face it. You're not exactly Mr. Anger Management. How are you gonna control the devil when you can't control yourself?"

"We don't know that."

"Sam…"

Bobby sighed tiredly. Sam could hear the clink of glass as Bobby refilled his drink. There was no point arguing anymore.

"Yeah, I get it. Thanks, Bobby."

Shoulders slumped, Sam hung up the phone. Everyone was tiptoeing around him, cutting off practically every suggestion he gave. At least, that's what it felt like.

"You can't do it."

The alcohol had dulled Sam's senses just enough that he didn't jump at Jennifer Webb's sudden presence.

"Why not? Does everyone think I'm some weakling?" Sam hulked around, still holding the bottle. "So you can teleport now?"

"I picked up a few things up. Still learning. And I don't think you're a weakling. Far from it. You're one of the strongest people I know."

"What's that supposed to do? Flatter me into submission?"

"Sam," Jenny sighed. "Remember, I jumped into the Pit to save your sorry hide. You owe me, mister."

"Don't try to hold this over my head. This is the Devil we're talking about!"

"And I helped release him, so don't get self-pitying with me!" she yelled louder. Sam staggered a little at her shocking outburst. Her time with the Sentinels had given her a little extra backbone, it seemed. "You can't do this! I can help you fight all sorts of minions, but there's no way I can protect you against Lucifer."

"I don't need protection!"

"Well, you're deluding yourself!" She sniffed disgustedly as she settled back into a mellower mood. "He'll find all your weak points." She sounded like Bobby… "He knows you and Dean are mine, as much as I hate to admit it. If you give yourself up, you give all of us up. And, if you do manage to jump into that Pit, there's no guarantee we can get you back out."

Sam glared, recognizing the resigned determination in her eyes. He had seen that look a few times.

"You're not coming for me. Don't you dare."

"Not like I could, even if I wanted to," she snorted. "You're my friend, Sam, and you know I'll help however I can. You were there for me when I needed help. But I need you to know what you'd be getting yourself into…even if you could take back control while possessed."

"You think I couldn't?"

Jen sobered completely, hurt by the mistrust flooding Sam's stance. Between Dean leaving him to adventure with Crowley and Bobby shutting him down, he was fed up.

"Of all people, I know you could. After all you've been through. But this is the Devil; you said yourself. This is Hell. I know your life hasn't been a cakewalk, but nothing you've ever experienced can compare to Hell. Just look at me!" Jennifer was only wearing jeans and a camisole, so her scars were incredibly prominent. The barbed wire marks looked like a choker necklace. And the Y-shaped cuts on her chest looked like someone had giving her a living autopsy. She carried it well, though, no longer ashamed…just a different shade of beautiful. He looked away when he realized she was watching his gaze. "You put Lucifer in that Cage with you, this is just a tiny sample of what he'll do."

The fog of the alcohol was finally giving way to a more logical mode. Sam sat down, running a hand through his hair.

"I don't consider any of this lightly, you know. I know the risks. And I know the reward."

"The risk is you being trapped as Lucifer's formal attire, watching yourself destroy everything you love. The reward could be an eternity of torment. Even if we get you back…"

Despite her forced calm, something about the woman's gaze made Sam pause. Jenny Webb had perfected the impassive, uncaring, hardened personality of a hunter. She was empathetic, but she also had the stones to cut off her own sister's head without hardly a tear. But Sam was slowly beginning to comprehend how much of a soft spot she had for the Winchesters. She had jumped into Hell because some angels had told her they were important. She had been tortured by Dean. And she still looked out for them, after everything.

"I'm sorry. I'll try to find another way. But…"

"I know." She turned to leave. "I just wish you understood how much we all care for you."

* * *

Jennifer sighed heavily when her hotel room rematerialized. Maybe she wasn't dying anymore, but beaming herself to new places without someone else driving was exhausting. On the other hand, if she didn't practice, it wouldn't get better.

The hunter stumbled to bed, changed into boxer shorts, and contemplated grabbing her booze from the minifridge. It hadn't been that rough a day, beyond having one of the Sentinels inform her that some of them were joining the civil war. And wondering how she would be able to protect Sam – from everyone – if he did say yes. As she stared, the bed disappeared and the floor was replaced by limp grass.

"Where is this?"

"Our battleground."

Jen started at the sound of Rembrandt's fluid voice. She hadn't actually expected him to answer. The Sentinels rarely did.

Now that she looked around, the hunter could see a beautiful landscape. It was difficult to describe in human terms, but her limited senses had translated it to rolling green hills, dotted with ruined buildings, new and ancient, under a soft white sky.

Jenny took a step back at the sight of a small crater under her feet. Another step when she saw the glorious winged angel flattened in its center. No host to see through. Just extinguished glory.

There were dozens of these craters. All around. Eventually, she became aware of the distant booms of fighting. She jumped when a grey figure seemed to step through her to examine his fallen foe. The heavy mist around him gave the woman a guess that this was one of the angels confused and corrupted by the whisperings of Raphael and the lot. She looked to Rembrandt for a sign. Should they run?

"He cannot see us," the man assured her. In this light, his hair seemed to shift from gold to red to white. "You see as a Sentinel. He will only see us if we wish it." His lips twitched upward. "Maybe someday you'll be able to manage it on your own."

While Rembrandt was talking, the other angel had moved on, walking toward the fighting. Glorious, but twisted.

"How many have died?"

"Too many. On both sides."

She paused as a closer question came to mind.

"Any Sentinels?"

"A few. Zachariah's followers consider us a nuisance, but have yet to catch us. Lucifer can sense us, and he killed three when they got too close. But he seems to be careful not to slaughter us."

"Could he?"

"I would rather not find out."

"He's hoping I'll fight for him. And force you with me."

Rembrandt raised an eyebrow.

"Your will is strong over us, but we are not obligated to follow your every whim. We have a larger goal."

"I don't think he knows that. Stupid Sam is considering a yes. He thinks he can overpower Lucifer."

"I've heard the plot. It could work." Jennifer twitched in surprise. She knew the Sentinels were different, but their perspective compared to their peers consistently surprised her. "We care about humanity as much as our own."

"Right. Bigger picture. Why don't you get involved more? Others have."

"We specialize in more…covert operations. We will support the ground troops and gather intelligence. God cares about the humans, so we do. But we are not warriors like Castiel and his garrison." The angel paused. "You are wise to not trust right away."

"Well, considering this little specialness of mine all started because a dying angel was going crazy, yeah."

"An unfortunate turn of events. However, while we focus on this conflict, it is preferable to not split our focus. You're our eyes and ears."

"Good to be useful," Jennifer grumbled. Rembrandt noted her grim tone.

"You are of great value to us. You can aid the fight against the Apocalypse in ways where we would be of no use."

"Helping the Winchesters." She snorted a laugh. "A lot of help I've been. Helping them release Lucifer. Helping them get distracted when they were busy saving my hide."

"It's no wonder you get along with them. You are a hunter, Jennifer Webb. You destroy evil and you investigate what is dangerous or uncertain when no one else will. Do not underestimate yourself. Or your friends."

Jennifer had closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, the field was gone and she was back in her hotel room.

"Your soul was gone," Magnus noted.

Jenny sighed, wondering if she was ever going to sleep tonight.

"I was on the front lines. I know why you and Cas seem to prefer being on Earth right now."

"Many have perished. Friends of mine."

"I'm sorry."

Magnus' inclined her head by a hair, the only acknowledgement of Jen's sympathy.

"This is why we need help…even from humans."

Jen shook her head when she glanced back up to find Magnus gone. It seemed tonight did call for that booze, after all.


End file.
